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Boy scouts in the White Mountains: 

Oft c0' 







X -iyt/USt^ /f 1^ ^ 

Walter P. Eaton 

how the Chipmunk Patrol was started, what they did 
and how they did it. 

story of Boy Scouting in the Dismal Swamp. 

A story of a hike over the Franconia and Presiden- 
tial Ranges. 

A story of Boy Scouting. 

PEANUT — CUB REPORTER. A Boy Scout's life 
and adventures on a newspaper. 

tures of two young Easterners in the heart of the 
High Rockies. 

the High Cascades. 

Maine Woods. 

HAWKEYE'S ROOMMATE. A story of the very life 
of a truly American prep school — how the boys 
studied, played and found lasting friendships and 
learned the lessons of life. 

Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
in 2013 


Boy Scouts in the 
White Mountains 







Copyrighted, 1^14 

By W. a. Wilde Company 

All rights reserved 

Boy Scouts in the White Mountahts 


The author and publishers desire to ex> 
press their appreciation of the courtesy 
extended by Small Maynard & Co. for 
the use of the black and white plates used 
in this volume, which are taken from their 
« White Mountain Trails " and also to 
•* The Northward-Ho " for the use of the 
reproduction of the Presidential Range 
used on the cover. 


Sydney Bruce Snow 

In memory of a cheerful fire 

and a doleful broken egg 

beside the 

Lakes of the Clouds 


I. Peanut Calls to Arms . 
II. Getting Ready for the Hike 

III. Fourth of July on Kinsman . 


V. Lost River and the Ladies . 

VI. A Strange Adventure in the Night 

VII. Over the Lafayette Ridge, with 
Dinner Party at the End . 

VIII. On the Forehead of the Old Man of 
THE Mountain .... 

IX. The Crawford Notch . 

X. A Fight with the Storm on the Craw- 
ford Bridle Path 

XL To THE Summit, Safe at Last 

XII. Down Tuckerman's Ravine , 

XIII. Up the Huntington Head Wall . 

XIV. The Giant's Bedclothes 

XV. With Rob, Art and Peanut into the 
Great Gulf .... 

XVI. First Aid in the Clouds! 

XVII. Peanut Learns Where the Six Hus- 
bands' Trail Got Its Name 

XVIIL Through King's Ravine and Home 














Boy Scouts in the White 


Peanut Calls to Arms 

NOBODY who had seen Art Bruce in a scout suit 
would ever have recognized him in his present 
costume. He had on black silk knee-breeches. On 
his low shoes were sewed two enormous buckles, cut 
out of pasteboard, with tinfoil from a paper of sweet 
chocolate pasted over them to make them look like 
silver. Instead of a shirt, he wore a woman's white 
waist, with a lot of lace in front, which stood out, 
stiff with starch. His jacket was of black velvet. 
Instead of a collar, he wore a black handkerchief 
wrapped around like an old-fashioned neck-cloth, 
the kind you see in pictures of George Washington's 
time. On his head was a wig, powered white, with 
a queue hanging down behind. As he came out of 
the boys' dressing room into the school auditorium 
Peanut Morrison emitted a wild whoop. 

'* Gee, look at Art ! " he cried. " He thinks he's 



George Washington going to deliver his last mes- 
sage to Congress ! '* 

Everybody looked at Art, and Art turned red. 
" Shut up," he said. " You wait till you're all 
dolled up, and see what you look like ! " 

" Yes, and you'd better be getting dressed right 
away,'' said one of the teachers to Peanut, who 
scampered off laughing. 

Art stood about, very uncomfortable, watching 
the other boys and girls come from the dressing 
rooms, in their costumes. It was the dress rehearsal 
for a Colonial pageant the Southmead High School 
was going to present. They were going to sing a 
lot of old-time songs, and dance old-time dances 
(the girls doing most of the dancing). The stage 
was supposed to represent a Colonial parlor. Several 
people had loaned the school old mahogany furni- 
ture, the light was to come largely from candles, 
and finally, while the party was supposed to be in 
full blast, a messenger was going to dash in, breath- 
less, announce the Battle of Lexington, and call the 
men-folks of Southmead to arms. Then the men 
would run for their guns, say good-bye to the 
women, and march off. Art couldn't see why they 
should march off in all their best clothes, and had 
said so to the teacher who got up the play, but she 
had pointed out that they couldn't afford to hire two 
costumes for all the boys, so they'd just have to pre- 


tend they went home for their other clothes. Art 
was not yet satisfied, however. 

The girls were in funny old costumes with wide 
skirts and powdered hair. They were all having a 
much better time than Art was. 

" Gee, they like to dress up," thought Art, as he 
watched Lucy Parker practicing a courtesy before her 
own reflection in a glass door, and patting her hair. 

Peanut didn't have to dress up in these elaborate 
clothes. He was the messenger who rushed in to 
announce the call to arms. He was also his own 
horse. Putting a board across two chairs just be- 
hind the door leading to the stage, he took a couple 
of drumsticks and imitated a galloping horse, be- 
ginning softly, as if the horse was far away, and 
drumming louder and louder till the horse was sup- 
posed to reach the door. Then he cried ** Whoa ! ", 
dropped the drumsticks, and dashed out upon the 
stage. Peanut had been rehearsing his part at home, 
and the imitation of the galloping horse was really 
very good. 

As soon as everybody was dressed, the rehearsal 
began, with the music teacher at the piano, and the 
other teachers running about getting the actors into 
place. Lucy Parker was supposed to be giving the 
party in her house, and the other characters came 
on one by one, or in couples, while Lucy courtesied 
to each of them. The girls courtesied back, while 


the men were supposed to make low bows. There 
weren't many lines to speak, but Dennie O'Brien 
was supposed to be a visiting French count, with 
very gallant manners, and he had to say " Bon soir, 
Mademoiselle Parker " (Lucy's ancestors had lived 
in Southmead during the Revolution, so she kept 
her own name in the play), and then he had to lift 
her hand and kiss it. Dennie had never been able 
to do this at any of the rehearsals yet without gig- 
gling, and setting everybody else to giggling. But 
this time the teacher in charge spoke severely. 

" Now, Dennis," she said, " this is a dress re- 
hearsal. You go through your part right ! " 

** Yes'm," Dennie answered, feeling of the little 
black goatee stuck on his chin to see if it was on 
firm, and trying to keep his face straight. 

When his turn came to enter, he got of! his " Bon 
soir, Mademoiselle Parker " all right, and bowed over 
her hand without a snicker. But, just as he kissed 
her fingers, his goatee came off and fell to the floor. 
Everybody laughed, except Lucy. She was mad at 
him, because she wanted the play to be a great suc- 
cess, and before he could lift his face, she brought 
her hand up quickly and slapped his cheek a good, 
sounding whack. 

Dennie jumped back, surprised. Then he picked 
up his goatee, while Lucy stamped her foot. "You 
great clumsy — boy I " she exclaimed. 


" Serves you right, Dennis," said the teacher. 

"Well, I can't help it if it won't stick," Dennie 
answered. '* Gee, I'll bite your old hand next 
time I " he muttered to Lucy. 

She ignored him, and the rehearsal proceeded. 
Art entered next, with Mary Pearson on his arm. 
Mary dropped a courtesy, and Art bowed. 

The teacher clapped her hands for the rehearsal 
to stop. " Oh, Arthur," she said, " don't bow as if 
you had a ramrod down your back ! " 

" Well, I feel's if I had," said Art. 

" But don't act so 1 " the teacher laughed. " Now, 
try it again." 

Art tried once more to put his hand on his breast, 
and bow gracefully, but he certainly felt like a fool 
in these clothes, and made a poor success of it. 

" Boys are all clumsy," he heard Lucy whisper to 
one of the other girls. 

After the guests had all arrived, they sang several 
old-time songs, and then four boys and four girls 
danced the minuet. Art didn't have to take part in 
this. He was supposed to sit and chat in the back- 
ground, which was easy. After the minuet, how- 
ever, everybody had to get up and dance a Virginia 
Reel. While they were in the middle of the dance. 
Peanut's galloping horse was heard ; the dance 
stopped, the cry of " Whoa ! " was shouted at the 
door, and Peanut, in clothes made dusty by sprin- 


kling flour on them, dashed into the room, breathless, 
and panted, " War has begun ! We have fought 
the British at Lexington and Concord ! Every man 
to arms ! The enemy must be driven out of Bos- 
ton I " 

There was nothing stiff about Peanut, and nobody 
laughed when he came on covered with flour. He 
was really panting. He gasped out his first sen- 
tence, and ended with a thrilling shout. Then he 
dashed forth again, and his horse was heard gallop- 
ing rapidly away. 

*' Peanut has the artistic temperament," one of the 
teachers whispered to another, who nodded. 

No sooner had Peanut gone than the men on the 
stage piled after him, and while the women huddled 
whispering in excited groups, they grabbed guns 
and came back on the stage, when there were good- 
byes and pretended tears, and Lou Merritt, dressed 
up like a Revolutionary minister, gave the departing 
soldiers his blessing. 

"Just the same, it^s silly," Art cried, as the re- 
hearsal was over. " Nobody ever marched ofiE to 
war in silk pants and pumps. Why can't we put 
on our own old clothes, with high boots, when we 
go for the guns? Even if we don't have Conti- 
nental uniforms, the old clothes will look more 
sensible than these things." 

** Sure ! " cried Peanut, to the teacher. " Look 


here, Miss Eldridge, here^s a picture of the Concord 
statue of the Minute Man. Just long pants stuck 
into his boots. Let 'em just do that, and sling 
blanket rolls over their shoulders, like Scouts. Then 
they'll look like business." 

**I guess you are right, boys," she said. "Well, 
try it again. Who lives nearest? You, Joe, and 
you, Bert. Run and borrow a few old blankets from 
your mothers." 

Ten minutes later Peanut once more galloped up 
to interrupt the Virginia Reel, the men rushed out 
for their guns, and pulled on their own trousers, 
slung blanket rolls over their shoulders, discarded 
their powdered wigs, and came back looking much 
more like minute men going to war. They formed 
a strong contrast now to the girls, in their fine 
clothes. Art felt easy at last, with a blanket roll 
covering his frilled shirt and a gun in his hand. He 
gave commands to his company in a firm voice, no 
longer halting and awkward. He even had a sud- 
den inspiration, which undoubtedly improved the 
play, though that wasn't why he carried it out. 

Lucy Parker, she who had been so contemptuous 
of boys, was acting for all she was worth in this 
scene. Prattle was supposed to be her lover, and 
she was clinging to him with one hand while bidding 
him good-bye, and mopping her eyes with the other 
Art as captain ^^f the minute men, suddenly strode 


over to her, grabbed Prattle, dragged him away, 
and put him into line with the other soldiers. Lucy 
looked indignant, and forgot to wipe her eyes. Art 
glanced at her triumphantly, and Miss Eldridge 
cried, *' Do that on the night of the play, Arthur 1 
That's fine — only don't glare at Lucy." 

This inspiration rather restored Art's spirits. He 
had got square with Lucy Parker, anyhow ! He 
and Peanut dressed as quickly as they could, and 
left the school building, walking home up the village 
street, where sleigh-bells were jingling. Art grew 
glum again. 

'* Hang the old rehearsals!" said he. "It's too 
late to go skating." 

** I like 'em," Peanut replied. " It's lots o' fun." 

" You're an actor, I guess," said Art. " Gee, you 
come puffing in just as if you were really out of 
breath ! " 

*' I am,'' said Peanut. " I get to thinking about 
galloping up on the horse so hard while I'm drum- 
ming that I really get excited. Why, how can you 
help it?" 

" Guess you can't," Art answered. " But I can. 
I'm not built that way. Play acting doesn't seem 
real to me, it seems sort of — sort of girls' stuff." 

** Thank you," said Peanut. 

" Oh, I don't mean you, of course," Art laughed. 
" But dancing, and all that — golly, I feel as if I was 


wasting time. Wish vacation was here, so we could 
get away somewhere into the wilds again." 

"Sure, so do I," answered Peanut, "but me for 
having all the fun I can while I'm in civilization. 
Where are we going to hike this summer, by the 

" Fve been thinking about that," said Art. " I 
was thinking about it in study period — that's why I 
flunked my history recitation. Got a good idea, too." 

"Out with it," said Peanut. 

"The White Mountains," said Art. " It came to 
me while I was looking at that picture of the Alps 
which hangs on the side wall. These mountains 
about Southmead, they're not really mountains — 
only hills. But we've had a lot of fun climbing 'em. 
Think what fun it would be to climb real mountains. 
We can't get to the Alps or the Rockies, but Mr, 
Rogers told me once it wouldn't cost any more to 
hike over the White Mountains than it cost us to go 
to the Dismal Swamp." 

"Me for them," cried Peanut. "That means sav- 
ing twenty-five dollars between now and July. 
Wow ! I'll have to do some hustling ! " 

"You'll have to cut out some candy," laughed 

" I've not bought any candy since — since yester- 
day," the other replied. " Whom'll we take with us 
on this hike ? " 


"Anybody that will go," said Art. "Guess Fd 
better call a scout meeting right away, and put it 
up to the fellers." 

" Sure, to-night," cried Peanut. "I'm going 
home now to see if the old hen's laid an egg to sell I " 

" You'll need a lot of eggs to save twenty-five dol- 
lars," said Art. 

"Not so many, with eggs at fifty-five cents a 
dozen," Peanut replied. Then he turned in at his 
gate, and began to skip sideways up the path, hit- 
ting the soles of his shoes together in such a way 
that he exactly imitated the galloping of a horse. 
" Whoa ! " he cried at the door, and as he entered 
the house. Art could hear him shouting at his 
mother, " To arms ! The war has begun. We 
have fought the British at Lexington and Concord ! " 

Then Art grinned as he heard Mrs. Morrison re- 
ply, "Have you? Well, now you split some kin- 


Getting Ready for the Hike 

FOR the next few months several of the Scouts 
saved up money for the White Mountain hike. 
Art, as patrol leader, and as originator of the idea, 
felt that it was up to him to do all in his power to 
encourage the plan, so he borrowed Rob Everts' 
radiopticon (Rob himself was away at college now), 
and secured from Mr. Rogers, the Scout Master, 
who had been to the White Mountains many times, 
a bunch of picture post-cards and photographs, 
showing all kinds of views from that region — the 
Old Man of the Mountain, the clouds seen from the 
top of Mount Washington, the Great Gulf between 
Washington and the northern peaks, the snow arch 
in Tuckerman's Ravine, and so on. Mr. Rogers 
himself came to the meeting and explained the pic- 
tures, describing the places enthusiastically. Some 
of his own photographs were taken at very steep 
places on the trails, and here some of the boys 
gasped. One picture in particular showed Mr. 
Rogers himself climbing a ledge, almost as steep as 
the side of a house, with a pack on his back and a 
blanket roll over his shoulder. 



" Gee, do you have to carry all that weight up 
those places ? " demanded Prattle. 

" You do if you want to eat and keep warm when 
you get to the top," Mr. Rogers laughed. 

" Me for little old Southmead," Prattle replied. 

'' Yes, you stay right here, and dance the minuet 
with Lucy Parker," said Art scornfully. " You big, 
lazy tub ! " 

Prattle bristled up, but the other Scouts laughed 
him down. However, there were several more who 
seemed, as time went on, to feel rather as Prattle 
did toward the White Mountain hike. Some of 
them got discouraged at the task of saving up so 
much money. Besides, it was easier, when spring 
came, to go out and play baseball than it was to 
work for a few pennies, which had to be put in a 
bank and saved for summer — a long way of!. 
Others didn't see the trip in the light Art and Pea- 
nut saw it. It seemed too hard work to them. 

** They make me tired," Art declared one spring 
afternoon. ** They haven't any gumption." 

" Boys are something like men, I guess," Peanut 
answered sagely. "Some men get out and do 
things, an' get rich or go to Congress, while others 
don't. Look right here in Southmead. There's 
Tom Perkins, he's got everything you want in his 
store, from sponges to snow-shoes, and he's rich. 
Bill Green, who might do just as well as he does, 


don't care whether he sells you anything or not ; he's 
too lazy to stock up with fresh goods all the while, 
and he's poor and don't amount to much. I guess 
when Tom Perkins was our age he'd have gone 
to the White Mountains with us, and Bill Green 

"Probably," said Art, **but there are too many 
Bill Greens in the world I " 

" Right-o," said Peanut. " I'll tell you something 
else. Art. Some of the fellers' folks won't let 'em 
go. I was talking with Dennie's old man the other 
day. Gee, he's got money enough ! He could give 
Dennie twenty-five dollars and never know it. He 
said, * What's the matter with you boys? Ain't 
Southmead good enough for you, that you want to 
go hikin' off a thousand miles ? ' He got my goat, 
and I just came back at him I " 

" What did you say ? " asked Art. 

Peanut chuckled. "I wasn't exactly polite," he 
answered. ** * Mr. O'Brien,' said I, * if you'd been 
off more, you'd know that one of the best ways to 
get an education is to travel. Southmead's only a 
little corner of a big world.' * Well, it's big enough 
for me, and for Dennis,' he says, and I answered, 
* It's too big for you. You're so small you'd rattie 
'round in a pea-pod.' " 

" And then what happened ? " asked Art. 

"Then I ran," Peanut laughed. "Gee, he was 


mad ! Old tightwad I Dennie wants to go, awful 

As vacation time drew near in June, the number 
of Scouts who were going to be able to make the 
trip had boiled down to four — Art and Peanut, of 
course, with Frank Nichols and Lou Merritt. Those 
readers who have also read " The Boy Scouts of 
Berkshire " will recall that Lou Merritt was the boy 
who had started in as a sneak and a liar. But that 
time was long since past. He had lived with Miss 
Swain now for several years ; he took care of her 
garden for her, and made some money for himself 
besides, raising lettuce, radishes, cauliflowers and 
other vegetables. He was in the high school, and 
was going from there to the Amherst Agricultural 
College. Lou was now one of the most respected 
boys in town, and Miss Swain was so fond of him 
that she had practically ordered him to go on the 
hike, for he had worked hard in the garden all the 
spring, besides studying evenings. She was going 
to hire a gardener while he was away, but the money 
for the trip he had earned himself. In addition to 
these four there was, of course, Mr. Rogers, the 
Scout Master, and Rob Everts, who would be back 
from college in a week or two now, and was going on 
the hike for a vacation, before he started in summer 
work in his father's bank. That made a party of six, 
which Mr. Rogers declared was, after all, enough. 




" Just a good, chummy number," he said. ** The 
Appalachian camps will hold us without overcrowd- 
ing, and we won't always be worrying about strag- 
glers getting lost/' 

" What are the Appalachian camps ? " asked Art. 

" The Appalachian Club is a club of men, with 
headquarters in Boston," Mr. Rogers answered, 
** and they do more than anybody else to make 
hiking in the White Mountains possible. They 
have built dozens and dozens of trails, which they 
keep cleaned out and marked clearly, and at several 
strategic points they have built shelters where you 
can camp over night or get in out of the storm. 
They have a stone hut on the col between Mounts 
Madison and Adams, a shelter in the Great Gulf, 
another in Tuckerman's Ravine, and so on. I've 
been mighty glad to get to some of these shelters, 
I can tell you." 

"Gee, those names — Great Gulf — Tuckerman's 
Ravine — make you want to get to 'em in a hurry ! " 
cried Peanut. ** Let's plan an equipment right off." 

**That is pretty important," said Mr. Rogers. 
" We want to go as light as we can, and yet we've 
got to keep warm. I've been in a snow-storm on 
Mount Washington in the middle of August." 

** Whew ! " said Peanut. 

So the four Scouts began planning, at their shoes, 
where plans for every hike ought to begin. As Mr 


Rogers put it, ** a soldier is no better than his feet." 
Each boy got out his stoutest boots, made sure that 
the linings were sound so there would be no rough 
places to chafe the feet, and took them to the cob- 
bler's. If the soles had worn thin, the cobbler re- 
soled them, and in all of them he put hobnails, so 
they would grip the steep rocks without slipping. 

None of the Southmead Scouts wore the kind of 
scout uniform which has short knee pants and socks 
instead of stockings. As most of their hikes were 
through woods, this uniform would have been highly 
unpractical, resulting in scratched legs. Besides, 
all the larger Scouts, like Art and Peanut, said it 
was too much like the clothes rich little children 
wear I Instead, the Southmead troop generally 
wore khaki trousers and leggings. 

** I think leggings are going to be too hot for this 
trip," Mr. Rogers said. ** We'll have very little brush 
work to do. Suppose we cut out the leggings in 
favor of long khaki trousers. We'll each want an 
extra pair of heavy socks, and you, Lou, bring along 
a needle and plenty of darning cotton, to repair 
holes. Then we'll want an extra shirt and set of un- 
derclothes apiece, so we can change in camp after 
a sweaty climb. Also, we'll all want sweaters and a 

*' How about food ? " asked Art. 

" And cooking kits?" asked Peanut. 


"And my camera?" said Frank. 

" One camera only I " laughed Mr. Rogers. " You 
can settle whose that'll be between you. Most of 
our food we'll get as we go along. But it would be 
just as well if we got a few things before we start, 
such as salt and a few soup sticks and some dehy- 
drated vegetables, such as spinach, and maybe some 
army emergency rations." 

" Brr," said Peanut. " Art and I tried them once. 
Taste like — well, Fm too polite to tell you." 

** Nevertheless, you can put a small can in your 
pocket and go off for a day without toting a whole 
kitchen along," Mr. Rogers answered, '' and that's a 
help when you are climbing." 

" All right," said Peanut, ** but I'd rather chew 

" He'll eat it just the same, when he gets hungry," 
put in Art. " Now, about kits. Can't we divide 
up ? We oughtn't to need much stuff for only six." 

"I've got two kettles, that nest, one inside the 
other," said Peanut, " and a small frying-pan." 

" Fve got a good sized fry pan," said Frank. 

" And I've got a wire broiler, that shuts up and 
fits into my pocket," said Mr. Rogers. 

" And I've got a collapsible camp lantern, that 
you can see to shut it up by," said Lou. 

" Then we'll do with just those things," Art said. 
" Of course, everybody' 11 bring his own cup and 


knife and spoon. Oh, and how about maps and 
compasses, Mr. Rogers ? Will we need compasses ? " 

** You bet, we'll all take compasses. Everybody's 
got to have a compass in his pocket before we start." 

" Why?'^ asked Frank. ''Can't you always see 
where you are going on a mountain ? Those pic- 
tures of Washington you showed us looked as if the 
mountain was all bare rock." 

** That's just why we need the compasses," Mr. 
Rogers answered. " You can follow a path through 
woods, no matter how thick a cloud you may be in, 
but when you get up on the bare ledges of the 
Presidentials, the path is marked only by little piles 
of stones, called cairns, every fifty feet or so, and 
when a cloud comes up you can't see, often, from 
one to the next, and if you once get away from the 
path and started in a wrong direction, you are lost. 
Many people have been lost on Mount Washington 
just that way, and either starved or frozen to death. 
If you have a compass, you can steer a compass line 
down the mountain till you come to water, and fol- 
low the brook out toward the north where there are 
houses at the base. But if you haven't a compass, 
and get to going south, you get into a wilderness, 
and it would go hard with you. Mount Washing- 
ton is really a dangerous mountain, even if it is only 
6,293 teet high. The storms come quickly and often 
without warning, and it can get very cold up there, 


as I told you, even in midsummer. Yes, sir, we'll 
all take compasses, and before we tackle the old boy 
we'll have some lectures, too, on how to act in case 
of cloud!" 
^ '* Don't we want maps, too ? " said Art. ** Gee, it 
sounds more exciting every minute ! " 

" I have the maps," Mr. Rogers said. " Here are 
the government maps of the Presidentials, and here 
is the little Appalachian Club book, with maps and 

He brought out a small book in a green leather 
cover like a pocketbook, and opened it, unfolding 
two maps of the Presidential range, like big blue- 

The boys leaned their heads together over it, and 
began to spell out the trails. 

" Gulf Side Trail," cried Art. ** That sounds good." 

" Here's the Crawford Bridle Path — that's a long 
one — shall we go up that ? " asked Lou. 

Mr. Rogers nodded. " That's the way we'll get 
up Washington," he said. 

" Hi, I like this one ! " Peanut exclaimed. " Six 
Husbands' Trail ! She goes down — or he does, see- 
ing it's husbands — into the Great Gulf, and then up 
again — let's see — up Jefferson. Wow, by the con- 
tour intervals it looks like a steep one ! " 

** It is a steep one — wait till you see it," said Mr. 


Art had now turned back from the map into the 
reading matter. 

'* Listen to this ! " he exclaimed. " Here's a de- 
scription of the Tuckerman Ravine path up Mount 
Washington. It's three and six-tenth miles, and the 
time given for it is four hours and fifteen minutes. 
That's less than a mile an hour. Gee, I call that 
pretty slow I " 

"Do you?" laughed the Scout Master. "Well, 
if we average a mile an hour on the steep trails, I'll 
be satisfied. You wait till you hit the head wall 
with a pack on your back, and a blanket on your 
shoulder, and see how many miles an hour you want 
to travel I " 

" Keeps sounding better and better ! " cried Pea- 
nut. " Golly, I can't wait I When do we start?" 

It was agreed, as soon as Rob got home from col- 
lege, to start the day before the Fourth of July, and 
celebrate the Fourth in the mountains. Rob sus- 
pected that Mr. Rogers suggested this date partially 
in order to keep Peanut from getting into trouble 
" the night before," as Peanut was always a leader 
in the attempts to ring the Congregational church 
bell, and this year the sherifT had declared he'd ar- 
rest any boy he caught near the steeple. But Pea- 
nut was too excited over the mountain hike to worry 
much at losing the night before fun. On the after- 
noon of the second, all five Scouts had their equip- 


ments ready, and brought them to Mr. Rogers' 
house, which was nearest to the station. The next 
morning they were on hand half an hour before train 
time, and marched to the station with a flag flying, 
for Peanut declared, as he unfurled it, that he was 
going to plant Old Glory on the top of something 
on the Fourth of July. 

Two hours later they changed cars for the White 
Mountain express, at Springfield, and soon were 
rolling up the Connecticut valley, through country 
which was strange to them. 


Fourth of July on Kinsman 

AS the train passed along the high embankment 
above the village of Deerfield, Massachusetts, 
the boys crowded to the windows on the left side of 
the car, and gazed out upon the meadows where 
they had camped at the turning point of their first 
long hike, several years before. The village looked 
sleepy and quiet, under its great trees. 

** Golly, they need waking up again ! " Peanut 
laughed. ^* Remember how we trimmed *em in 
baseball ? There's the field we played on, too." 

But almost before the rest could follow Peanut's 
beckoning finger, the train was past. Deerfield was 
the last familiar spot they saw. Their way led north- 
ward, mile after mile, beside the Connecticut River, 
and they began to get a pretty good idea of what a 
lengthy thing a big river is. 

*' Take a good look at that river, boys," said Mr. 
Rogers, ** because in a few days we are going to 
eat our lunch at one of its head waters, and you can 
see what little beginnings big things have." 

In the afternoon, they came in sight of Mount 
Ascutney, close to the river in Windsor, Vermont. 



" That's only the height of Greylock, which we've 
climbed," Mr. Rogers told them. ** But you'll begin 
to see some of the big fellows pretty soon." 

Sure enough, it was not long before Art, who was 
looking out of the eastern window, gave a cry. 
** There's a big blue lump, with what looks like a 
house on top I " 

Mr. Rogers looked. "You're right, it's a big 
lump, all right ! That's the second one we'll climb. 
It's Moosilauke." He peered sharply out of the 
window. " There," he added, " do you see a sad- 
dleback mountain beyond it, which looks like Grey- 
lock ? That's Kinsman. We'll celebrate the Fourth 
to-morrow, on top of him." 

"Hooray!" cried Peanut. "I got two packs of 
firecrackers in my kettle ! " 

" How high is it? " asked Frank. 

" About 4,200 feet," Mr. Rogers answered. " That's 
only 700 feet higher than Greylock, but I can prom- 
ise you it will seem more, and there'll be a different 

Peanut was running from one side of the car to 
the other, trying to see everything. But the nearer 
they got to the mountains, the less of the mountains 
they saw. After the train turned up the narrow 
valley of the Ammonoosuc, at Woodsville, in fact, 
they saw no more mountains at all. An hour later 
they got oil the train at the Sugar Hill station. So 


did a great many other people. There were many 
motors and mountain wagons waiting to carry off 
the new arrivals. The boys, at Art's suggestion, 
let these get out of the way before they started, so 
the dust would have a chance to settle. It was late 
in the afternoon when they finally set out. 

*' How far have we got to go? " asked Frank. 

" Seven or eight miles," Mr. Rogers answered, " if 
we want to camp at the base of Kinsman. If you'd 
rather walk it in the morning, we can camp along 
this road." 

"No, let's get there to-night ! Don't care if I 
starve, I'm going to keep on till I see the moun- 
tains," cried Peanut. 

The rest were equally eager, so up the road they 
plodded, a road which mounted steadily through 
second growth timber, mile after mile, with scarce 
a house on it. After an hour or more, they came in 
sight of Sugar Hill village, one street of houses 
straggling up a hill ahead. They increased their 
pace, and soon Peanut, who was leading, gave a 
cry which startled several people walking on the 
sidewalk. The rest hurried up. Peanut had come 
to the top of the road, and was looking off eastward 
excitedly. There were the mountains ! Near at 
hand, hardly a stone's throw, it seemed, across the 
valley below, lay a long, forest-clad bulwark, rising 
into domes. Beyond that shot up a larger rampart, 


sharply peaked, of naked rock. Off to the left, be- 
yond that, growing bluer and bluer into the distance, 
was a billowing sea of mountains, and very far off, 
to the northwest, almost like a mist on the horizon, 
lay the biggest pyramid of all, which Mr. Rogers 
told them was Mount Washington. 

" Some mountains, those I " Peanut exclaimed. 
** Gee, I guess we won't climb 'em all in two 
weeks ! " 

** I guess not," Rob laughed. 

They turned to the right now, passing a big hotel 
on the very crest of the hill, and as they passed, the 
setting sun behind them turned all the mountains a 
bright amethyst, so that they looked, as Lou put it, 
** like great big jewels." 

"It's beautiful ! " he added, enthusiastically. 

" Make a poem about it," said Peanut. '' Say, Mr. 
Rogers, Lou writes poetry. You oughter read it ! 
He wrote a poem to Lucy Parker one day, didn't 
you, Lou ? " 

" Shut up," said Lou, turning red. 

'' Well, if I could write poetry, this view would 
make me do it, all right," Rob put in. " Now where 
to, Mr. Rogers?" 

" Getting hungry ? " said the Scout Master. 

" I sure am." 

" Well, in an hour we'll be at camp. All down- 
hill, too." 


" Hooray I " cried Art. " This pack is getting 

The party now turned sharply down the hill toward 
the east, and the great double range of the Fran- 
conia Mountains, which Mr. Rogers named for them. 
The highest peak on the north of the farther range 
was Lafayette, 5,200 feet high. The northern peak 
of the first range was Cannon Mountain, the Old 
Man's face being on the farther side of it. To the 
south the twin summits, like a saddleback, were the 
two peaks of Kinsman, which they would climb in 
the morning. As they dropped rapidly down the 
hill, they suddenly saw to the south, in the fading 
light, a huge bulk of a mountain filling up the vista. 
*' That's Moosilauke," Mr. Rogers said. "We tackle 
him day after to-morrow." 

It was almost dark when they reached the val- 
ley, and turned south along a sandy road with 
the big black wall of Cannon seeming to tower 
over them. It grew quite dark while they were still 

** Hope you know your way, Mr. Scout Master," 
said Peanut, who had ceased to run on ahead. 

** Half a mile more," Mr. Rogers laughed. 

Presently they heard a brook, and a moment later 
stood on a bridge. The brook was evidently com- 
ing down from that great black bulk of Cannon to 
the left, which lifted its dome up to the stars. 


" Halt ! " Mr. Rogers cried. " Here's Copper Mine 

He led the way through the fence side of the 
brook, and two minutes later the party stood in a 
pine grove, carpeted with soft needles. 

" Camp ! " said the Scout Master. " Art, you and 
the rest get a fire going. Take Lou's lantern and 
find some stones. There are plenty right in the 
bed of the brook — nothing but. Peanut, come with 

The Scout Master led Peanut out of the grove to 
the south, and up over a pasture knoll a few hun- 
dred feet. At the top of the knoll they saw a white 
house below them, a big barn, and a cottage. De- 
scending quickly, Mr. Rogers led Peanut through 
the wood-shed, as if it were his own house, and 
knocked at the kitchen door. 

As the Scout Master and Peanut entered, a man 
and a little boy arose, the man's face expressing first 
astonishment and then joyous welcome. 

** Well, of all things I " he cried. ** Did you drop 
out of the sky ? " 

'* Mr. Sheldon, this is Bobbie Morrison, otherwise 
known as Peanut," said Mr. Rogers. " And how is 
your Bobbie ? " 

The little fellow came forward from behind his 
father's leg, and shook hands. But what interested 
him most was Peanut's sheath hatchet. In two 


minutes he had it out, and was trying to demolish 
the wood-box with it — not trying, succeeding I His 
father had to take it away. 

The Sheldon family all came to welcome Mr. 
Rogers, and when he and Peanut returned to camp 
they carried milk and eggs and doughnuts. 

" That farm," Mr. Rogers said, " is about the best 
place I know of to come to stay, if you want to 
tramp around for a week or a month." 

** They kind of like you, I guess," said Peanut. 

** That's the kind of folks they are," answered the 
Scout Master. 

Back at camp, the Scouts had a fire going briskly, 
and soon supper was sizzling, and the smell of 
coffee, made from the pure water of Copper Mine 
Brook, was mingling with the fragrance of the pines, 
and with another smell the boys at first did not rec- 
ognize till Art examined a small tree close to the 
fire, and discovered that it was balsam. They were 
in the midst of their feast, when Mr. Sheldon ap- 
peared, and sat down with them. 

" You oughtn't to take 'em away from here with- 
out showing 'em the falls," he said to the Scout 
Master. " They are full now — lots of water coming 
over — and I cut out the trail fresh this last winter. 
You can do it in the morning and still make Kins- 
man, easily. At least, you can if they are strong 
boys," he added with a wink. 


" Humph ! " said Peanut, " I guess we're as strong 
as the next." 

Then he realized that Mr. Sheldon had got a rise 
out of him, and grinned. 

" What's the weather going to be to-morrow ? " 
asked the Scout Master. 

" Clear," the other man replied, ** I didn't hear 
the mountain talking as I came across the knoll." 

"The mountain whatf^^ said Rob. 

" Talking, we say. You get it real still down here 
sometimes in the valley, and way up on top there, 
if you listen sharp, you can hear the wind rush- 
ing through the trees. Then we look out for bad 

" That's a funny way to put it," Lou mused. ** It 
makes the mountains seem sort of human." 

** Well, you get to know 'em pretty well, living 
under 'em all the time, that's a fact," the man an- 
swered. '* A good sleep to you." 

"Good-night," called the Scouts, as he disap- 

As soon as the supper things were washed, they 
were ready for bed, curling up in their blankets 
around the fire, for it was chilly here, even though 
it was the night before the Fourth — a fact Peanut 
quite forgot till he had rolled himself all up for the 
night. He crawled out again, set off a couple of 
firecrackers, and came back to bed. 


** Gee, this is the stillest night before / ever saw ! '' 
he exclaimed. 

" It would be, if you'd shut up," grunted Art, 

The next morning Art, as always, was the first up. 
He rose from his blanket, aware that it was dawn, 
and rubbed his eyes. Where was the dim black 
wall of the mountain which had gone up against the 
stars the night before? He ran out of the grove 
into a clear space and gazed up Copper Mine Brook 
into a white wall of cloud. Back the other way, he 
saw that the narrow valley in which they w-ere was 
hung along the surface with white mist, as the water 
of the Lake of the Dismal Swamp used to be ; and 
the western hills beyond it were in cloud. Yet over- 
head the dawn sky appeared to be blue. 

" Guess we're in for a bad day," he muttered^ 
peeling off his clothes and tumbling into the 
shallow, swift waters of the brook. He emitted a 
loud '* Wow I " as he fell into the deepest pool he 
could find. Was this ice water ? He got out again 
as quickly as possible, and began hopping up and 
down to dry himself, his body pink with the re- 

His " Wow I " had wakened the camp, and the 
rest were sopn beside him. 

" How's the water ? " asked Peanut. 

** Fine I " said Art, winking at Mr. Rogers. 


Peanut, without a word, rolled over the bank. 
His " Wow I " sounded like a wildcat in distress. 

"Cold?" asked Rob. 

" Oh, n-n-no," said Peanut emerging with chatter- 
ing teeth. ** W-w-warm as t-t-t-toast." 

The rest decided to cut out the morning bath, in 
spite of Art's jeers. Even Mr. Rogers balked at ice 
water. They were all looking, with much disappoint- 
ment, at the cloud-covered mountain above them. 

" Wait a bit," said the Scout Master. " This is 
going to be a fine day — you'll see." 

Even as they were going back to camp for break- 
fast, the hills to the west, touched now with the sun, 
began to emerge from the mist, or rather the mist 
seemed to roll up their sides like the curtain at a 
play. By the time breakfast was over, the sun had 
appeared over Cannon, and the clouds had mysteri- 
ously vanished into a few thin shreds of vapor, like 
veils far up in the tree tops. It was a splendid day. 

'* Well, I'll be switched ! " said Art. 

** The mountains almost always gather clouds, 
like a dew, at night in summer," the Scout Master 
said. " Well, boys, do you feel up to tackling 
Bridal Veil Falls before we tackle Kinsman ? " 

There came a " Yes ! " in unison. All packs and 
equipment were left in camp, and shortly after six 
the party set out in light marching trim up a logging 
road which followed the brook bed. It led over a 


high pasture, and finally plunged into a thick second 
growth forest, where the dew on the branches soaked 
everybody, but particularly Peanut, who was leading 
and got the first of it. The path crossed the brook 
several times on old corduroy log bridges, now 
nearly rotted away, and grew constantly steeper. 
The boys were panting a bit. They hadn't got their 
mountain wind yet. After two miles, during which, 
but for the steepness, they might have been leagues 
from any mountain for all they could see, they began 
to hear a roaring in the woods above them. They 
hastened on, and suddenly, right ahead, they saw a 
smooth, inclined plane of rock, thirty or forty feet 
long, with the water slipping down over it like 
running glass, and above it they saw a sheer 
precipice sixty feet high, with a V-shaped cut in the 
centre. Through the bottom of this V the brook 
came pouring, and tumbled headlong to the ledge 

" Up we go ! '^ cried Peanut, tackling the smooth 
sloping ledge at a dry strip on the side. He got a 
few feet, and began to slip back. 

The rest laughed, and tackled the slide at various 
spots. Only the Scout Master, with a grin, went 
way to the right and climbed easily up by a hidden 
path on the side ledge. He got to the base of the 
falls before the boys did. 

" A picture, a picture ! " cried Frank, as the rest 


finally arrived. All the party but Frank scrambled up 
on a slippery boulder, drenched with spray, beside 
the falls, and Frank mounted his tripod and took 
them, having to use a time exposure, as there was 
no sun down under the precipice. 

*' Now, let's get to the top of the falls I " cried 
Peanut. ** Is there a path ? " 

** Yes, there's a path, but it's roundabout, and we 
haven't time," the Scout Master answered. 

" Ho, we don't need a path, I guess," Peanut 
added. ** Just go right up those rocks over there, 
clinging to the little hemlocks." 

He jumped across the brook from boulder to 
boulder, and started to scramble up the precipice, 
on what looked like rocks covered with mossy soil 
and young trees. He got about six feet, when all 
the soil came off under his feet, the little tree he was 
hanging to came off on top of him, and he descended 
in a shower of mould, moss, mud and evergreen. 

" Guess again. Peanut," the Scout Master laughed, 
when he saw the boy rise, unhurt. " You can't climb 
safely over wet moss, you know— or you didn't 

" I guess you're right,'* said Peanut, ruefully re- 
garding the precipice. ** But I did want to get up 

" Forward march for Kinsman, I say," Art put ia 
*' That's the business of the day." 


They started down. At the incHned plane Peanut 
decided to slide. He crouched on his heels upon 
the smooth rock, and began to descend. But the 
rock sloped inward almost imperceptibly. Half- 
way down he was on the edge of the water, two feet 
more and he was in the water. His feet went out 
from under him, and sitting in the stream (which 
was only about three inches deep over the slide) he 
went down like lightning, into the brook below 1 

The rest set up a shout. Peanut got up upon the 
farther bank, and stood dripping in the path. He 
was soaked from the waist down. ** Ho, what do I 
care ? It's a warm day," said he. But he pulled off 
his boots and emptied the water out of them, and 
then wrung out his stockings and trousers. The 
rest didn't wait. They went laughing down the 
path, and Peanut had to follow on the run. 

When he caught up, everybody was looking very 
stern. ** Now, Peanut, no more nonsense," Mr. 
Rogers said. ** You'll keep to the path hereafter. 
We want no broken bones, nor colds, nor sore feet 
from spoiled shoes. Remember, this is the last 
time ! " 

He spoke soberly, sternly. " Yes, sir ! " said 
Peanut, not seeing the wink the Scout Master gave 
the rest. 

At camp they shouldered their equip';nent, stopped 
at the little store Mr. Sheldon kept in a wing of his 


house, to buy some provisions and to say goodbye, 
and at ten o'clock were tramping up the road of the 
narrow valley, with the blue bulk of Moosilauke 
directly south of them, Cannon Mountain just be- 
hind to the left, up which they had gone half-way to 
the falls, and directly on their left the northern 
ridges of Kinsman, covered with dense forest. 

Half a mile down the road Mr. Rogers led the 
way through a pair of bars, and they crossed a pas- 
ture, went panting up a tremendously steep path be- 
tween dense young spruces, passed through another 
pasture, and began to climb a steep logging road. 
It was hard, steady plodding. 

" I'm gettin' dry," said Peanut, " but my pants 
still stick ! " 

After a while, the path left the logging road, and 
swung up still steeper through the trees. Suddenly 
they heard water, and a moment later were stand- 
ing on a shelf of rock over a waterfall, which came 
forth from one of the most curious formations they 
had ever seen. 

" Another chance for you to get wet, Peanut ! " 
laughed Frank. " What is this place, Mr. Rogers ? " 

" It's called Kinsman Flume," the Scout Master 

The flume was a cleft not more than eight feet 
wide, between two great ledges of moss-grown rock. 
It ran back into the hill two hundred feet, and was 


at least thirty feet deep. The brook came into the 
upper end over a series of waterfalls, and ran out of 
the lower end, where the boys were, down another 
fall. Frank took a picture of it, and then they 
crossed the brook at the lower end, and followed the 
path up along the top. The path brought them into 
another logging road, which presently came out 
into a level clearing. As they had not seen the top 
of the mountain since they entered the woods, 
everybody gave a gasp now. There, ahead of them, 
was the summit — but looking just as high, just as 
far off, as ever ! Art pulled out his watch. 

" We've been going an hour and a quarter — 
whew I " he said. " I thought we were 'most 

"A little bigger than it looks, eh?" Mr. Rogers 
laughed. '* Most mountains fool you that way." 

The party plodded on a way across the level 
plateau, and then the ascent began again — up, up, 
up, by a path which had evidently once been a log- 
ging road, but had now been eroded by the water, 
till it was little better than the dry bed of a brook — 
and not always dry at that. The boys began to 
pant, and mop their foreheads. Then they began to 
shift their blanket rolls from one shoulder to the 
other. The pace had slowed down. 

*' How about that mile an hour being ridiculously 
slow. Art ? " Mr. Rogers inquired. 


" We're not doing much better, that's a fact," Art 

Just as he spoke, a partridge suddenly went up 
from the path, not twenty -five feet ahead, with a 
great whir-r-r. When they reached the spot where he 
rose, they found a tiny, clear spring. Art flung down 
his burden, and dropped on his knees with his cup. 

" Good place for lunch, /say," remarked Peanut. 

** Me, too, on that," said Frank. 

Rob looked ahead. The path was growing still 
steeper. He looked back, and through the trees he 
could see far below to the valley. 

" One more vote," he said. 

^* Carried," said Art, running for fuel. 

After a lunch of bacon and powdered eggs, the 
party lolled an hour in the shade, half asleep, and then 
resumed the climb. The path very soon entered a 
forest of a different sort. It was still chiefly hard 
wood, but very much darker and denser than that be- 
low. The trail, too, was not a logging road. It was 
marked only by blazes on the trees, and the forest floor 
was black and damp with untold ages of leaf-mould. 

"I guess we've got above the line of lumbering," 
said Rob. 

** We have," said the Scout Master. 

Art looked about. ** Then this is really primeval 
forest!" he exclaimed — '*just what it was when 
there were only Indians in this country I " 


He investigated the trees more carefully. " Why, 
most of them are birches," he cried, " but they are 
so old and green with moss that they don't look 
white at all. And look how short they are, for such 
big trunks." 

*' You are nearly 4,000 feet up now, remember," 
Mr. Rogers reminded him, *' and they are dwarfed 
by the storms." 

They came presently out of this dim bit of primeval 
forest into a growth composed almost exclusively of 
spruce. It was thirty feet high at first, but the path 
was very steep, and growing rocky, and in five min- 
utes the spruces had shrunk in height to ten feet. 
The boys scented the summit and began to hurry. 
They struck a level place, and from it, in gaps be- 
tween the stunted spruces, they began to get hints 
of the view. A quick final scramble, and they found 
themselves on the north peak. Peanut was leading. 
His clothes were dry now, except for a new soaking 
of perspiration, and his spirits high. Rob was right 
on his heels. The rest heard their shouts, and a 
second later stood beside them on a big fiat rock, 
above the spruces which were only three or four feet 
tall here, and looked out upon the most wonderful 
view they had ever beheld. It made them all silent 
for a moment. 

Right at their feet, on the opposite side from 
which they had come up, the mountain droppea 


away in an almost sheer precipice for a thousand 
feet At the bottom of that precipice was a perfectly 
level plateau, covered with forest, and apparently 
two miles long by half a mile wide, with a tiny lake, 
Lonesome Lake, at one end. Beyond it the moun- 
tain again fell away precipitously into an unseen 
gorge. From out of that gorge, on the farther side, 
rose the massive wall of Lafayette, Lincoln, Hay- 
stack and Liberty, four peaks which are almost like 
one long mountain with Lafayette, at the northern 
end, the highest point, a thousand feet higher than 
the boys. The whole side of this long rampart is so 
steep that great landslides have scarred it, and the 
last thousand feet of it is bare rock. It looked to 
the boys tremendously big, and the one blue moun- 
tain beyond it, to the east, which was high enough 
to peep over seemed very high indeed — Mount Car- 

Peanut drew in his breath with a whistle. Lou 
sighed. '* That's the biggest thing I ever saw," he 
said. Then he added, " And the most beautiful ! *' 

To the southeast, below Mount Liberty at the end 
of the big rock rampart, the boys could see off to 
the far horizon, over a billow of blue mountains like 
the wave crest of a gigantic sea — the Sandwich 
range, with the sharp cone of Chocorua as its most 
prominent peak. Facing due south, they could see, 
close to them, the south peak of Kinsman, perhaps 


half a mile away, across a saddle which was much 
deeper than it had looked from the base. Beyond 
the south peak was Moosilauke, seeming very close, 
and on top of it they could now see the Summit 
House. To the west, they looked down the slope 
up which they had climbed, to the valley, where the 
houses looked like specks, and then far off to the 
Green Mountains of Vermont. 

Peanut grew impatient. ** Come on, fellers," he 
cried. " This ain't the top. What are we waiting 
here for?" 

** Oh, let us see the view, Peanut,'* said Rob. 
" What's your rush ? " 

'• Well, stay and see your old view ; I'm going to 
get to the top first," Peanut answered. " Where are 
we going to camp, Mr. Rogers? " 

'* Back here, I guess. There's a good spring just 
over the edge below. We'll go to the south peak, 
and then come back." 

Peanut dumped off his pack into the bushes, 
kneeled down and took out the flag and his fire- 
crackers, and then slipped over the brow and dis- 
appeared rapidly along the path which led across 
the saddle to the south peak. 

The rest waited till Art had put some dehydrated 
spinach to soak in a kettle, and then followed more 
slowly, seeing nothing of Peanut, for the path wound 
amid the stunted spruces which were just tall enough 


to out-top a man. They went down a considerable 
incline, and found two or three hundred feet of fresh 
climbing ahead of them when they reached the base 
of the south cone. They were scrambling up through 
the spruces when suddenly from the summit they 
heard a report — then a second — a third — a fourth— 
then the rapid musketry of a whole bunch of cannon 
crackers. It sounded odd far up here in the silence, 
and not very loud. The great spaces of air seemed 
to absorb the sound. 

When they reached the top, Peanut had stripped 
a spruce of all branches, and tied the flag to the top. 
It was whipping out in the breeze. As the first 
boy's head appeared in sight, he touched off his last 
bunch of crackers, and, taking off his hat, cried, 
"Ladiefe and gentlemen, salute your flag in honor 
of the Independence of these United States of 
America, and the Boy Scouts of Southmead, Mas- 

"Peanut's making a Fourth of July oration," 
Frank called down to the rest. 

Rob laughed. ''From the granite hills of New 
Hampshire to the sun-kissed shores of the golden 
Pacific," he declaimed, "from the Arctic circle to the 
Rio Grande, the dear old stars and stripes shall 
wave — " 

"Shut up," said Lou. "This place ain't the spot 
to make fun of the flag in. I say we all just take 


off our hats and salute it, here on top of this moun- 
tain ! " 

Lou spoke seriously. Peanut, who was always 
quick to take a suggestion, instantly acquiesced. 
^'Sure," he said. *' Lou's right. Hats off to the 
flag on the Fourth of July ! " 

The five Scouts and Mr. Rogers stood on the rock 
by the improvised flagstaff, and saluted in silence. 
Then the Scout Master said quietly, '* We can see 
from here a good deal of the United States, can't we ? 
We can see the granite hills of New Hampshire, all 
right. We can realize the job it was for our ancestors 
to conquer this country from the wilderness and the 
Indians, to put roads and railways through these hills. 
I guess we ought to be pretty proud of the old flag." 

The boys put on their hats again, and Frank took 
a picture of them, gathered around the flag. Then 
Peanut let out a pent-up whoop. ** Never celebrated 
the Fourth like this before I ** he cried. '* Golly, but 
Moosilauke looks big from here ! " 

It certainly did look big. It seemed to tower over 
them. The western sun was throwing the shadows 
of its own summit down the eastern slopes, and the 
whole great mountain was hazy, mysterious. 

" Are we going to climb that ? " asked Frank. 

"Sure," said Art. 

" Whew ! " said Frank. ** Makes my legs ache 
already 1 " 


"It's easier than this one," Mr. Rogers laughed. 
" Now let's go back and make camp." 

The party retraced their steps to the north peak 
where, just below the summit and overlooking the 
precipitous drop to the Lonesome Lake plateau, was 
a small but cold and delicious spring. 
's " How does the water get way up here, is what 
stumps me," said Frank. 

** I suppose it is rain and snow water, held in the 
rocks," the Scout Master replied. " Perhaps some of 
it comes along the rock fissures from the south peak, 
but that wouldn't be necessary. There is a little 
spring almost at the top of Lafayette over there. 
We'll see it in a few days." 

" How do we get up Lafayette ? " asked Art. 

" We'll come down from Moosilauke, and tramp 
up the Notch down there below our feet now, till we 
reach Liberty, climb Liberty, and go right along the 
ridge to Lafayette, and then down to the Profile 
House," was the answer. 

The boys looked across the valley to the great rock 
wall on the further side. The sun was sinking low 
now, and the shadow of Kinsman was cast across. 
Even as they watched, this shadow mounted slowly 
up the steep, scarred sides of Liberty and Lincoln, 
till only their summits were in sunlight, rosy at first 
and then amethyst. The far hills to the southwest 
began to fade from sight. 


" Gee, it's time to make camp ! " cried Peanut 
" Here's a good, soft place, on this moss." 

He pointed to a level spot on the summit. Mr, 
Rogers shook his head. 

" Nix I " he said. '' We'd be chilled through before 
morning. Which way is the wind ? " 

Art picked up a piece of dry grass and tossed it 
into the air. It drifted toward the southeast. 

*' Northwest," he said. 

** All right. We'll go down into the spruces to 
leeward, and keep out of it." 

The boys soon found a sheltered level space some 
fifty feet below the peak, and began to clear out a 
sort of nest in the tough spruce. 

" Gosh, I never saw anything so tough as these 
young spruces," said Frank. 

Lou had been examining one he had cut down. 
*• They're not young," he answered. ''That's the 
funny part of it. This one I've cut is only four inches 
through, but it's years old. I've counted at least 
forty-five rings. Guess they are dwarfed by the 
storms up here, like Japanese trees, aren't they, Mr. 

The Scout Master nodded. " I've seen 'em only 
three or four feet high, when they were so thick to- 
gether, and so tough, that you could literally walk 
on top of 'em without going through to the ground." 

Peanut dropped his hatchet and sHpped down over 


the rocks to a spot where the trees were as Mr. 
Rogers had described. He tried to press through, 
and failed. Then he just scrambled out on top of 
them, and tried to walk. With every step he hali 
disappeared from sight, while the rest looked on, 

After a few steps, he came back. His hands and 
face were scratched, and there was a tear in his 

"Excuse me!^' he cried. "Gee, the Dismal 
Swamp has nothing on those mountain spruces I 
Golly, I begin to admire the man who made this path 
up here ! " 

The spruce boughs were so tough, in fact, that only 
the tips could be used for bedding, and the boys had 
to trim the branches with their knives to make their 
bunks on the ground. The camp-fire was built of 
dead spruce, with some live stumps added, and a 
kettle of water kept beside it lest a spark ignite the 
trees close by. Night had come on before supper 
was ready, and with the coming of night it grew 
cold, colder than the boys had guessed it could be in 
July. They put on their sweaters, which, all day, 
they had been complaining about as extra weight, 
and they kept close to the fire while Art, with the 
skill of a juggler, tossed the flapjacks from one side 
to the other in his fry pan, catching them neatly as 
they came down. The wind rose higher, and began 


to moan through the spruces. Far below them was 
the great black hole of the Notch — just a yawning 
pit with no bottom. Beyond it the shadowy bulk 
of Lafayette, Lincoln, Haystack and Liberty loomed 
up against the starry sky. From this side, not a sin- 
gle light was visible anywhere in the universe. The 
boys ate their supper almost in silence. 

** Gee, this is lonely ! " Peanut suddenly blurted 
out " I'm going where I can see a light." He got 
up and climbed to the summit again, followed by all 
the others except Lou. They could look westward 
from the peak, and see the lamps in the houses 
down in the valley, and the blazing lights of the big 
hotel on Sugar Hill, and even the street lights in 
Franconia village. 

"There is somebody else in the world I" cried 
Peanut. ** Glad of that. I was beginning to think 
there wasn't." 

Just as he spoke, a rocket suddenly went up from 
Sugar Hill, and burst in the air. It was followed by 
another, and another. The boys yelled at Lou to 
come and see the fireworks. 

" Oh, dear," sighed Peanut, ** why didn't I bring a 
rocket — just one would be better'n none. Wouldn't 
it be some sight for the folks down there to see it 
going up from the top of this old mountain, eh ? "^ 

"That would be some celebration, O. K.," Art 
cried. " My, let's come again next year and do it I " 


Lou slipped back to camp presently, and Mr. 
Rogers, returning before the rest, found him sitting 
on a rock overlooking the black pit of the Notch, 
gazing out into space. 

** What is it, Lou ? " he said. " A penny for your 

'* I was thinking," Lou answered, ** that I was 
never so near the stars before. I suppose four thou- 
sand feet isn't much in a billion miles, but somehow 
they look bigger, and I can almost feel the earth 
rolling over under 'em. It's the funniest sensation I 
ever had." 

"You're a poet, Lou," said the Scout Master 
kindly, as he turned to call the rest to bed. 

" All hands to bunk I " he shouted. " We've had 
a hard day, with a harder one ahead." 

The Scouts got off their boots and rolled up in 
their blankets, all of them glad of the chance. Lou 
blew out the lantern, and turned in, also. The wind 
which rushed steadily overhead, with a moaning 
sound, did not reach them down here to leeward of 
the peak, amid the thick spruces. But it was cold, 
nonetheless. They lay close together, and drew 
their blankets tight. 

" A funny Fourth," said Peanut sleepily. ** Hope 
we don't roll of! in our sleep. Good-night, every- 

But there was no reply. Every one else was asleep. 



EVERYBODY was awake eairly the next morning. 
"Gosh, I didn't sleep very well!" said Pea- 
nut, shivering as he built up the fire. "Here it is 
the fifth of July, and me wrapped up in an army 
blanket, with a sweater on — and cold. Kept waking 
up, and getting closer to Art. He's kind o' fat and 
makes a good stove." 

"Should think you did!" said Art. "You woke 
me up about forty- 'leven times bumping your 
back into mine. I wasn't very cold. Been warmer, 

"If it's cold here," put in Rob, "at four thousand 
feet, what '11 it be on Washington at six thousand?" 

"I guess we'll sleep inside on Washington," said 
Mr. Rogers. 

"Oh, no!" cried Art. 

"Well, you can bunk outside, and the rest of us'U 
go in," laughed Frank. "Look, there's the sun!" 

Sure enough, in the east, across the white cloud 
which hung below them in the Notch, and beyond 
the wall of the Lafayette range, a great red ball was 
rising. It seemed to heave up above the mists as 



though somebody was pushing it from underneath, 
and as it got up and cast its rays across the Notch 
to their feet, Lafayette looked hke a huge island of 
rock above a white sea of vapor. This vapor rolled 
up and blew away as they were eating breakfast. 
The morning was fine and clear. Mr. Rogers 
pointed toward Moosilauke. ''That's where we'll 
be at night," he said. 

** It doesn't look possible 1 " said Lou. 

** It won't be, if we don't start," said Art. " Got 
your flag, Peanut, or did you leave it on the south 
peak ? " 

" I got it, all right," Peanut replied. " Are we 
ready ? How far is it, Mr. Rogers ? " 

*' Hm — four miles down this mountain,— ten to the 
base of Moosilauke — five miles up — nineteen miles." 

"A pickle,'^ said Peanut, and pack on back he 
plunged over the summit, and down the path into 
the spruces, the rest trailing behind. 

" Go after him, Rob," said the Scout Master, **and 
hold him back. He'll tire his front leg muscles all 
out, if he doesn't break his neck." 

Rob went, and held Peanut by main force till the 
rest came up. 

" You couldn't have held me," cried Peanut, ** if I 
hadn't wanted to say that we could go down easier 
with poles. We ought to have brought our poles. 
What can we cut for 'em ? " 


" Moose wood/' said Art. " I saw moose wood a 
bit further down, as we came up." 

So the party plunged on, finding the steep de- 
scent quick work, the chief difficulty being not to go 
too fast. At the first sign of moose wood. Art gave 
a cry, and soon the whole party had cut staves six 
feet long. 

" I'm going to leave this pretty green and white 
bark on mine, and cut my initials in it to-night," 
Lou announced. 

'* A good idea," the rest agreed. 

Shouldering their packs again, they put out the 
staves ahead of them, threw their weight forward, 
and with this assistance descended with even greater 
rapidity and much more safety. They stopped in 
the Flume only long enough for a drink, and again 
plunged down. As they came out into the level pas- 
ture near the base. Peanut slowed down. 

** Wow," he said, wiping his forehead, " that looks 
easy, but you really work awful hard holding in I " 

"You'll know you've worked about to-morrow," 
Mr. Rogers laughed. 

They made the four miles to the road in a little over 
half an hour, which, as Art said, is " going some." 

It was less than eight o'clock when they faced the 
ten miles of road to Moosilauke. 

The first thing to attract particular attention was 
^he village of Easton, through which they passed 


half an hour later. Of the half dozen houses in the 
village, two were quite abandoned. There was a 
tiny store, and a small sawmill, and that was all. 
Beyond the village they passed an abandoned church. 
Then followed two or three small houses, also aban- 
doned, and then nothing but the narrow, sandy road, 
winding through woods and fields, with Kinsman 
growing farther behind them on the left, and Moosi- 
lauke nearer straight ahead. They went for more 
than an hour without meeting a single wagon or 
motor, and after they left Easton they did not see a 
human being. 

" Pretty lively little road, this," said Peanut. 

"Makes you think of Broadway, New York," 
laughed Rob. 

" Look ! " said Lou. " Moosilauke isn't blue any 
longer. You can see the green of the forest." 

" You can see what was a. forest," said Mr. Rogers. 
'* The paper company have stripped it." 

** Why paper ? " asked Peanut. 

"Why paper!" Art sniffed. "You poor boob, 
don't you know that paper is made out of wood 
pulp ? " 

" I thought it was made out of old rags," Peanut 

" It is," said Rob. 

" Well— what " 

Everybody laughed. " Newspaper is made of 


wood pulp — spruce and balsam almost entirely," 
said the Scout Master, taking pity on Peanut. 
" Linen paper, such as the kind you write letters on, 
is made out of linen rags. The newspapers use up so 
much paper for their great Sunday editions, es- 
pecially, that they are really doing almost more to 
strip the forests than the lumbermen, because they 
don't even have to wait till the trees get good sized." 

" Why can't they use anything except spruce and 
balsam ? " asked Lou. " Won't other kinds of wood 
make paper ? " 

" They'll make paper," said Mr. Rogers, " but the 
fibre isn't tough enough to stand the strain of the 
presses. You know, a newspaper press has to print 
many thousands of copies an hour ; it runs at high 
speed. The paper is on a huge roll, and it unwinds 
like a ribbon into the press. It has to be tough 
enough so that it won't break as it is being unwound. 
There's a fortune waiting for the man who can in- 
vent a tough paper which can be made out of corn- 
stalks, or something which can be grown every year, 
like a crop. Think how it would save our forests I 
I'm told that every Sunday edition of a big New 
York newspaper uses up about eleven acres of 

" Gee, Sunday papers ain't worth it I " Art ex- 

** They are not, that's a fact," Mr. Rogers agreed. 


" I don't see," Lou put in, " why a paper mill 
couldn't buy up a great tract of woodland, and then 
forest it scientifically, taking out the big trees every 
year, and planting little ones. I shouldn't think it 
would cost any more than it would to haul lumber to 
the mills from all over creation." 

" It wouldn't, Lou," said Mr. Rogers, " but we in 
America haven't learned yet to do things that way. 
Our big mills and business concerns are all too care- 
less and selfish and wasteful. And the public is 
paying the penalty. Look at that " 

They had come around a bend in the road, close 
to the north shoulder of the mountain now, and could 
see how all the upper slopes had been stripped down 
to bare soil by the lumbermen. 

" That soil will probably dry out, landslides or fires 
will come, and it may be a thousand years before the 
mountain is forested again," Mr. Rogers exclaimed. 
"It's a perfect outrage ! " 

The party presently came into a crossroad, run- 
ning east and west. It was a bit more traveled than 
the one they were on. They turned down it to the 
left, and reached a curious settlement, or rather the 
remains of a settlement. There were several rough, 
unpainted board houses, a timber dam across a small 
river, and everywhere on the ground lay old sawdust, 
beginning to rot down, with bushes growing up 
through it. 


"This is Wildwood. It's all that remains of a 
lumber town," said Mr. Rogers. ** The mill stood 
by that dam. They cleared all this end of the valley 
many years ago, and sent their lumber on teams 
down the Wild Ammonoosuc valley to the railroad." 

The party now turned south again, crossed the 
Wild Ammonoosuc at the dam, and began ascending 
gradually along a road which seemed to be making 
for the notch on the west side of Moosilauke. 

" Only two miles more to the base," said the Scout 

Art looked at his watch. " It's only eleven o'clock," 
he said. " Couldn't we have a swim in that brook 
down there ? I'm awful hot." 

"Me, too," said Peanut. "And my bloomin' old 
boot is hurting my heel. I want to fix it." 

"That's because you got it so wet yesterday," 
said Rob. " For heaven's sake, take your clothes 
ofi before you go in to-day I " 

Everybody turned from the road to the brook, 
which was almost a small river. It came down from 
the sides of Moosilauke, and evidently joined the 
Wild Ammonoosuc near the dam. In a moment 
five boys and a man were sticking their toes into 
It gingerly, and withdrawing them with various 
" Ouches I " and " Wows ! " 

"Cowards I" cried Art. "Here goes. What's 
cold water?" 


He selected a pool between two big stones, and 
went all under. The rest followed suit. There was 
no place deep enough to swim in, however, and they 
all very soon came out, and dried themselves on the 

" My, that makes you feel better, though ! " 
Frank exclaimed. " Nothing like a bath on a hike 
to set you up 1 " 

"I got a blister," said Peanut, who was examin- 
ing his heel. *'Oh, dear, who*s got the first aid 

Rob had it, of course, as he was always the doctor. 
He put some antiseptic on the blister, which had 
burst, dressed it, and bound it firmly across with 
surgeon's plaster, so the shoe could not rub it. 

" You wouldn't have had it if you hadn't got your 
feet so wet yesterday," he said. ** The leather dried 
stiff. Perhaps you'll behave now." 

" Yes, doctor, what is your fee ? " Peanut grinned. 

The other five pairs of feet were all right, and the 
march was resumed. At noon they emerged out of 
the woods into a small clearing on the west side of 
Moosilauke. There was a tiny hotel in this clearing, 
and nothing else. On the right, a second, but much 
lower mountain, Mount Clough, went sharply up. 
Due south was a deep gap, like a V, between Clough 
and Moosilauke — the notch which led to the towns 


** Here's where the path begins," said the Scout 
Master. " WeVe • done fourteen miles, at least, this 
morning. I guess we'll have lunch." 

" Let's get up into the woods first, by a spring," 
the boys urged, so they entered on the path, which 
immediately began to go up at a steepish angle 
through a forest of hard wood — a very ancient forest. 

" Looks as if it had never been lumbered," said 
Art. " Wow ! look at the size of those maples and 
beeches 1 " 

"The paper men don't want hard wood, thank 
goodness," Mr. Rogers answered. " We'll get about 
a mile of this." 

They soon found a spring beside the path, and 
under the shadows of the great trees they made a 
fire and cooked lunch. Then, for an hour, every- 
body rested, lying on his back and listening to the 
beautiful songs of the hermit thrushes. Peanut and 
Art and Frank went to sleep, while Lou and Rob 
and Mr. Rogers talked softly. It was a lazy, peace- 
ful hour, up there in the great forest. At two o'clock 
Rob beat a tattoo on his frying-pan, to wake up the 
sleepers, and ordered the march to begin. 

For the next two hours it was steady plodding. 
The Benton Path, by which they were climbing, was 
clear and good. They came out of the hard timber 
forest in a little over half an hour, into slash land, 
now growing up into scraggly woods, full of vines 


and brambles, and presendy the path wound to the 
edge of a steep ravine, where they could look down 
at the tumbling waterfalls of the brook they had 
swum in that morning, and across the ravine to the 
stripped northern shoulders. The second hour of 
climbing was merely monotonous ascent, toilsome 
and slow, with no view at all. They had now put 
four miles below them, and the signs of lumbering 
ceased. They were getting close to timber line, 
where the stunted spruces were not worth cutting. 
For a littie way the path grew less steep, and they 
quickened their pace. The trees were now no higher 
than bushes. They saw the summit ahead, though 
the house seemed to have disappeared ; and the view 
opened out. Westward they could see to the Green 
Mountains, and beyond the Green Mountains, like a 
blue haze, the Adirondacks. At their feet they began 
to notice tiny mountain cranberry vines. Peanut 
tasted one of the half ripe cranberries, puckered up 
his face, and spit it hastily out. The path grew steep 
again. The trees vanished. The way grew rocky, 
with cranberries between the rocks everywhere. At 
last only the final heave to the summit seemed to 
confront them. Peanut, forgetting his lame heel, 
panted up ahead, and emitted a cry of disappoint- 

'' Gee whiz," he shouted back, " there's the Sum- 
mit House a quarter of a mile away I '* 


** You'll learn yet that you're never on the top of a 
mountain till you get there," Mr. Rogers laughed. 

But this final quarter mile was nearly level — or 
seemed so after the steep climb — and they were soon 
at the Summit House, with the view spread out to 
all four parts of the compass. 

What a view it was I But all the boys concen- 
trated their gaze in one direction — northeast. 
There, thirty miles or more away, over the top of 
the Lafayette range, they saw Mount Washington 
again, for the first time since the first Sugar Hill 
view, saw even the Summit House on its cone. 
That was the final goal of their hike — the high spot 
— and beside it all the billowing sea of blue mountain 
tops between paled to insignificance. 

" She looks a long way of! ! " said Art. 

" And me with a blister," sighed Peanut. " But 
it's Pike's Peak — I mean Washington — or bust I " 

The party now turned their attention to the Sum- 
mit House, which was a two-story structure of fair 
size, built partly of stone, with great chains going 
over it to lash it down. 

** I suppose if it wasn't chained down it would blow 
away in winter," said Art. ** Strikes me we're going 
to get some blow, even to-night." 

The west did, indeed, look windy, with great 
clouds suddenly piling up. But the Scout Master 
said you could never tell much about mountain 


weather — at least he couldn't. They entered the 
little hotel to see the inside. Several people were 
there already. At the back of the room was a big 
stove, with a fire in it, too. To the boys, who had 
but just arrived after their hot climb, the room 
seemed uncomfortably warm. 

"Going to spend the night here? Don't know 
whether I've got room for you all," said the 

"No, we're going to sleep out," Rob answered 
him. " We never sleep inside on a hike." 

"Well, I reckon you'll need your blankets," the 
man said. " The water froze here last night, in the 
rain barrel." 

" What's that ? " put in Peanut, who was examin- 
ing picture post-cards. " Say, I move we go back 
down a way to camp." 

" I do too, if you're going to try again to warm 
yourself between my shoulder blades," said Art. 

Everybody laughed, and a man came forward 
from behind the stove — a funny looking man, with 
big, hobnail shoes and big, shell-rimmed spectacles. 

" Which way are you going down the mountain 
in the morning ? " he asked. 

" By the Beaver Brook Trail," Mr. Rogers an- 

" Oh, that's all right, then," said their new ac- 
quaintance. " You stay up here long enough to see 


the sunset, and then I'll take you down the trail into 
the woods beyond the head of Jobildunk Ravine. 
You'll keep warm in there, all right." 

*' Can you find your way back, sir ? " asked Lou. 

The man's eyes twinkled. '* If I can't, I deserve 
to be lost," he answered. '* I've lived a month on 
top of this mountain every summer for more years 
than I care to confess." 

** Gee, it must be slow up here all that time ! " said 

" What do you mean, slow, young man ? " the 
other asked. 

Peanut fumbled a moment for words. " Why, 
nothing doing — no excitement," he finally replied. 

*' Ah, youth, youth I Happy, happy youth I " the 
stranger exclaimed. *' You love excitement, eh ? 
Well, you'll get some going down the Beaver Brook 
Trail to-morrow. By George, I've a great mind to 
give you some now I How far have you walked 

** Nineteen miles," said Peanut, shifting uneasily 
on his sore heel, and beginning to repent what he 
had said. Somehow, as Art whispered to Frank, 
the man looked as if he could " deliver the goods." 

*' No, that's far enough," the stranger replied, 
after a long pause, as if for reflection. " I won't 
dare a man who's hiked nineteen miles — or a boy 


" Oh, if it's a dare '' Peanut began. 

" No, sir, won't do it ; you can't bluff me into it I " 
the man laughed. " But if you think there's no ex- 
citement on Moosilauke, you stay here a few days, 
and let me take you botanizing a bit, say into 

" What's that name again, sir?" asked Rob. 

" Jobildunk," the man answered. ** It is a big 
ravine discovered by three men, named Joe, Bill and 
Duncan. So they made a portmanteau word, and 
named it Jo-bil-dunc after all three. The * k ' got put 
on later, I suppose. Come on out of this hot room, 
you chaps, and see my playground." 

'* I Hke him," whispered Rob as they followed him 
through the door. 

He was a small man, but they soon found he was 
tremendously active. In front of the hotel was a 
road. The summit of Moosilauke is about a mile 
long, nearly level, but highest on the north end, 
where the hotel is. This road ran all the way along 
the summit, to the southern end, where it vanished 
around the little south peak. It was a crushed stone 
road, all right, for there was nothing but stones to 
make it of. It was just a white ribbon, winding 
amid the gray boulders and mountain cranberry 
plants. The man led the way rapidly down it, and 
the tired boys had all they could do to keep up. 
Half a mile from the Summit House he stopped, 


leaped on a boulder beside the road, and pointed 

"Here's my favorite view," he said. "The little 
gray Summit House away up there at the end of the 
white road, against the sky, the white road running 
the other way down toward the valley world, and all 
off there to the west, just space and sunset ! " 

It was pretty fine. The sun was now descending 
into the western cloud bank, and turning the clouds 
to rose and gold. It looked hundreds of miles 

" Do those clouds mean rain ? " asked Art. 

" Nary a drop," said the man. " Hello I — here's 
an Argyjinis atlantis / " 

He made a mad dive with his hat, put it quickly 
over a low plant, and drew from under a beautiful 
butterfly, all gold and silver, with a black border 
around the wings. 

" The small mountain fritillary," he saido " Often 
comes up here, but shouldn't be here with the wind 
so strong. What I'm looking for really is an Oeneis 
semideay an arctic butterfly which they say is found 
only on Mount Washington. He's gray, like the 
rocks. Looks like a two inch piece of lichen. 
Haven't found one yet, though. You watch this 
fritillary follow the road down the mountain, now." 

He let the butterfly go, and sure enough, it started 
down the road, flying not more than three feet above 


the ground, and as long as the boys could watch it, 
it was keeping to every turn and twist. 

"He knows the way down!" laughed the man. 
" And he knows he has no business up here when 
it's so cold, with night coming on. He'll get down, 
though, at that rate. 

"And now, boys," continued this odd man, "you 
be as wise as the butterfly I Back to the hotel, 
shoulder packs, and to your camp!" 

He led the way again up the road. He walked 
so fast that the five boys and Mr. Rogers were all 
panting. But he himself was not out of breath in 
the least. He laughed at Peanut. 

"Anyhow, I get my wind good in a month up 
here," he said, "even if it is *slow' and Vm old 
enough to be your grandfather ! " 

" You've not walked nineteen miles to-day," said 

" No, but I've walked sixteen," the man replied. 
" I've been down nearly to North Woodstock and 
back, by the Beaver Brook Trail. You'll know what 
I mean when you see that trail." 

Peanut was silent. 

At the Summit House the boys bought some post- 
cards showing the view from the top, Frank took a 
picture of the sunset, to label "Moonlight from 
Moosilauke," and they all picked up their packs and 
followed their new leader. He took them back over 


the path they had come up for a few hundred feet, 
and suddenly plunged sharp to the east. They be- 
gan at once to go down. Soon the path skirted the 
edge of a great gorge, which was like a gigantic 
piece of pie cut out of the mountainside, with the 
point toward them. The sides were almost precipi- 
tous, and covered with dense spruce. 

** That's Jobildunk Ravine. Want to go down 
it with me, my young friend?" the man asked Pea- 

" Thanks — not till after supper," Peanut grinned. 

As they were on the east side of the summit, it 
quickly grew dark. The man led the way uner- 
ringly, however, along a level stretch of path beside 
the ravine, and presently plunged into the woods. 
They were now below timber line. In a few mo- 
ments he halted. 

** Got a lantern ? " he said. 

Lou lighted the camp lantern, and the man showed 
them a spring, close to the path. '* Plenty of dead 
wood on the trees — lower branches of those spruce," 
he added. *' Good-night, all ! " 

" Oh, stay and have supper with us ! " cried all the 
Scouts together. 

" Well, since you urge, I will," said he. '' Don't 
make me cook, though. I'm a bad cook." 

"You sit down, and be company," Peanut 


The boys rather showed off in getting supper 
ready. Art made the fire pit and the fire, Peanut 
and Frank gathered wood, Rob brought water and 
fixed up the props and cross-bar to swing the ketde 
from, and then cleared out a space for sleeping, cut- 
ting spruce boughs for the bed. Lou, meanwhile, 
got out enough food for the meal, and began to mix 
the flapjack dough. Mr. Rogers, like the stranger, 
was not allowed to do any work. 

" Well, you've got five of the Gold Dust twins 
here, for sure I " the man laughed. 

*' They're Boy Scouts, and used to making camp," 
Mr. Rogers answered. 

" They surely are used to it," the man said. ** I 
tell you, it's a great movement that trains boys for 
the open like that I " 

The Scouts, hearing this, redoubled their efforts, 
and bacon was sizzling, coffee boiling, flapjacks 
turning, in a very few moments more. 

Supper was a merry meal. The fire was re- 
stocked with fresh wood after the cooking had been 
done, and blazed up, throwing reflections into the 
trees overhead and quite paling the light of Lou's 
lantern, which swung from a branch. Their new 
friend joked and laughed, and enjoyed every mouth- 
ful. When supper was over, he pulled several cakes 
of sweet chocolate out of his pocket, and divided 
them for dessert. " Always carry it," he said. 


" Raisins and sweet chocolate — that makes a meal 
for me any time. Don't have to cook it, either." 

He sat with his back against a tree after the meal, 
and told stories of the mountain. '' I used to tramp 
over all these hills every vacation," he said, *'and 
many a good time Fve had, and many a hard time, 
too, on Washington, especially. I was caught in a 
snow-storm one June on the Crawford Bridle Path 
and nearly froze before I got to the Mt. Pleasant 
Path down. The wind was blowing a hundred 
miles an hour, at least, and went right through me. 
I couldn't see twenty feet ahead, either. Luckily, I 
had a compass, and by keeping the top of the ridge, 
I found the path without having to take a chance on 
descending through the woods. But nowadays, Fm 
getting old, and this fellow Moosilauke is more to 
my liking. A big, roomy, comfortable mountain, 
Moosilauke, with a bed waiting for you at the top, 
and plenty to see. Why, he's just like a brother to 
me I I keep a picture of him in my room in New 
York to look at winters, just as you " (he turned to 
Rob) " keep a picture of your best girl on your 

Rob turned red, while the rest laughed at him. 
To turn the subject, Rob said hastily : 

" Why is the mountain called Moosilauke ? " 

** It used to be spelled Moose-hillock on all the 
maps when I was a boy," the man replied. " Peo- 


pie thought it meant just that — a hill where the In- 
dians used to shoot moose. But finally somebody 
with some sense came along and reasoned that the 
Indians would hardly name a mountain with Eng- 
lish words, when they had known it for generations 
before they ever heard any English. He began to 
investigate, and discovered, Fm told, that the 
Pemigewasset Indians — the tribe which lived in the 
valley just to the south — really called it Moosilauke, 
which means, as far as I can make out, * The great 
bald (or bare) mountain,' because the top has no 
trees on it. The Indians never climbed it. They 
never climbed mountains at all, because they be- 
lieved that the Great Spirit dwelt on the tops. I 
fancy they held Moosilauke in particular veneration 
— and right they were ; it^s the finest old hill of 'em 
all ! " 

" You like the mountains, don't you, sir ? " said 

"You bet," the other answered. " They are about 
the biggest and solidest things we have, and the 
only folks who get to the top of 'em are folks with 
good legs, like you boys. I like people with good 
legs, but I don't like lazy people. So on the moun- 
tains I'm sure of good company. It's the only place 
I am sure of it — except, of course, in my own room, 
with the door locked ! " 

Peanut led the laugh at this. 


Before their new friend rose to go, he told them 
something of the trail down the mountain. " It's an 
Appalachian Club trail," he said, *' but it's not so 
well kept up as those on the Presidentials, and it's 
almighty steep in places. You'll find it good fun. 
When you get to the bottom, turn to the left and 
have a look at Beaver Meadow. It's an acre or 
more across, and was really cleared by beavers. 
You can still see the ruins of their old dam. Then 
go through Lost River, and you've seen the best of 
that region. Good-night, boys, and good hiking 1 " 

'* Will you be all right in the dark, around the 
head of the ravine? " asked Mr. Rogers. 

" The soles of my feet are as good a guide as my 
eyes on this path," the man laughed. 

But Peanut jumped up, took the lantern, and in- 
sisted on escorting him along the path till it had 
passed the head of the ravine. Fifteen or twenty 
minutes later, when Peanut reappeared, he found the 
rest ready for bed. Rob gave Peanut's sore heel a 
fresh dressing, and then everybody turned in, lying 
close together for warmth. As they were dozing 
off. Peanut suddenly exclaimed, " Hang it ! " in a 
loud tone. 

" What's the matter with you ? " asked Art crossly. 
"Go to sleep!" 

** I forgot to carve on my stick how far we've 
walked to-day," said Peanut. 


** Well, you can do it to-morrow, can't you ? Shut 
up now ! " 

** Oh, very well," said Peanut, relapsing into 
silence, and then into sleej?— the sleep of the utterly 

Lost River and the Ladies 

ONCE again the camp was astir at sunrise, 
shortly after four. Everybody was cold, and, 
truth to tell, a little cross. 

'* We're not hardened to this high air yet, I guess," 
said Art, as he built up the fire. But breakfast re- 
stored their good nature, and they all went back up 
the path to have a look at Jobildunk Ravine by day- 
light, while Mr. Rogers was shaving. 

" Got to shave, boys," he said, " because we strike 
a town — North Woodstock — this afternoon." 

It was after six before the descent of the mountain 
began. At first the way led through thick woods, 
and, while it was steep, seemed no steeper than 
Kinsman. They came upon the embers of two or 
three camp-fires beside springs, and presently upon 
a small lean-to, built of bark and hemlock boughs, 
which would hold two people. 

*' Somebody got tired half-way up," laughed Art. 
** Gee, they could have got to the top while they 
were building this." 

"Maybe they liked to build," Lou suggested, 
which seemed unanswerable. 



The path below this point swung over to the side 
of a rushing brook, and they began to enter a region 
where the lumbermen had been, stripping the forest 
down to bare soil and leaving behind dry, ugly 
slash. The path grew steeper every moment. The 
brook went down the mountain in a series of cas- 
cades, one after the other, and at almost every wa- 
terfall the path beside it dropped almost as steeply. 
In some places there were rough ladders to descend 
by. At other places you simply had to swing over a 
root and drop, often landing in soft, wet leaf-mould, 
and sinking up to the ankles. 

*• Steep? Well, I should smile!" said Peanut. 
** Say, fellers, don't you wish we were going up in- 
stead of down ? " 

" Can't say I do," Frank answered. " I don't see 
how anybody does get up here, 'specially with a 
heavy pack. Wasn't this path ever better than this ? " 

** It must have been once. The water has washed 
it," the Scout Master replied. 

Just then they came to a six foot drop, and Frank 
took it first. He unslung his camera at the bottom, 
and snapped the rest as they came tumbling after him. 

"That'll prove we had some steep work, all right," 
he said. 

" I believe if my pants were stronger, I'd just sit 
down and slide the rest of the way," Peanut laughed. 

But such steep descents have one great advantage 


— they get you down quickly. Almost before the boys 
realized that they were at the bottom, they found 
themselves walking along a level wood road, and it 
seemed suddenly very still. 

"It's the brook — we don't hear the water falling 
any more," said Art. 

They came out quickly upon the highway — or so 
much of a highway as ran through this tiny notch. It 
was hardly more than a wood road. They turned 
to the left, as their friend on Moosilauke had advised, 
and in a moment came into a grassy clearing, with 
the ruins of an old logging camp at one side. This 
was Beaver Meadow. To the left, the steep wall of 
Moosilauke leapt up, and they could see the course 
of Beaver Brook, beside which they had descended, 
the white of its waterfalls flashing here and there in 
the sun. To the right was Wildcat Mountain, really 
afoot-hill of Kinsman. The meadow itself was very 
green, and the road went through the middle of it. 
At the western end, it narrowed to perhaps a hundred 
feet in width, and here a little brook flowed out, be- 
side the road, and on either side they saw the re- 
mains of a dam, perhaps three or four feet high, 
quite grown over with grass and bushes. 

"The beaver dam!" cried Art, "They just cut 
down the trees on each side, and let them fall over 
the brook, and then plastered 'em up with mud, eh? 
My, but thev are smart I " 


** Did they clear all tiie trees out of this meadow, 
ioo?" asked Frank. 

" They didn't have to do that," the Scout Master 
replied. '* Once they had the brook dammed back 
the water killed the trees — killed *em so thoroughly 
that this meadow has remained open long after the 
beavers have vanished, and their dam has been 
broken open by the road." 

''But why do they go to all that trouble ? " said 
Frank again. 

" How^ many ponds have you seen in these 
parts?" said Art, scornfully. *'They wouldn't make 
a dam if they could find a natural pond shallow 
enough so their houses could come up above water, 
like a muskrat's, would they, Mr. Rogers? But I 
suppose they couldn't find one around here, so they 
just made it themselves. I think they're about the 
smartest animal there is." 

'' You mean was," said Peanut. ** I never saw 
one. Did you?" 

" No," said Art, sadly. " I'd like to, though. 
Gee, it's a shame the way women have to wear furs, 
and kill off all the animals ! Sometimes I wish there 
werenU any girls." 

** Well, they're not troubling us much this week," 
Mr. Rogers laughed. " Now for Lost River ! " 

The party /-.umed east, and proceeded down the 
road for about half a mile, by an easy grade, till they 


came quite unexpectedly upon a souvenir post-card 
and " tonic " store, built of birch logs, beside the 
path. Here they stopped, and after buying a bottle 
of ginger ale apiece, a young French-Canadian 
lumberman, who ran the store and acted as guide 
during the summer season, agreed to pilot them 
through Lost River. He advised them to put on 
overalls before starting, but they scorned the sugges- 
tion. While they were debating the point with him, 
there was a sudden sound of voices outside, and in 
the doorway of the little log store appeared a party 
of women and girls — and one lone man. 

" Poor Art I " said Peanut, giving him a poke in 
the ribs. 

This party wanted to go through Lost River, too. 

** We can't keep the guide all to ourselves and 
make him lose this other job," said Mr. Rogers. 
" Besides, we're Scouts, and we ought to do a good 
turn and help those women folks through." 

" Aw, no ! Let's cut out the guide, then, and go 
through alone ! " said Art. 

*'No," Mr. Rogers said, "I don't remember the 
way. I was never through but once, years ago ; be- 
sides, we'd miss half the sights.'' 

"Say," whispered Peanut, ** will those ^/r/j put on 
overalls ? " 

" I guess they'll have to," said Mr. Rogers. 

" Me for that I " cried Peanut, with a whoop. 


"Go on, Art, by yourself, if you want. I'm going to 
be a gay little Sir Launcelot to a dame in overalls 1 " 

All the boys laughed, except Art, who was still 

** Cheer up, Art," whispered Rob. " It sounds like 
fun to me. Look at that nice girl in the door ; she's 
looking at you." 

Art turned instinctively, and his eyes met those of 
a very pretty girl in pink, who was in the doorway. 
He blushed. So did the girl. Peanut winked at 
Rob, who winked back. 

" He'll come," they each whispered to the other. 

Mr. Rogers was talking to the guide, and to the 
lone man who had accompanied this party. The 
man took him over to the women (there were two 
women and five girls), and the boys saw their Scout 
Master bow, and talk with them. A moment later 
he came across the room. 

" That poor man has brought his wife and two 
daughters and three of their friends and another 
woman up from North Woodstock, boys," he said. 
" I can see they are all greenhorns at this sort of 
work. It's really up to us to help 'em. They are 
going to get into overalls now." 

The women and girls went up-stairs to the second 
story of the log house, and the boys could hear them 
tittering and giggling, and emitting little cries of 
" Ah ! " and " Oh, my gracious ! " and " I can never 


go down in these ! " The man came over to talk to 
the Scouts. He was in old clothes, he said, which 
he didn't mind getting dirty. He was a timid look- 
ing man, and seemed grateful that the Scouts were 
going to help him out. 

A few minutes later, a pair of feet — very small feet 
— appeared, very slowly, on the stairs, and the first 
girl — the one in pink — came down. Her cheeks 
were as pink as her dress — or what could be seen of 
her dress. She had on a pair of long overalls, 
turned up at the bottom, with her skirts wobbed up 
somehow inside of them, and the apron buckled up 
to her neck. She looked very much like a fat boy 
in his father's trousers. Peanut laughed — he couldn't 
help it. 

" I think you are horrid ! " she said, darting an 
angry look at him. 

** He — he didn't mean anything," Art stammered. 
" You look all right for — for such rough work." 

" Thank you," said the girl, and she came over 
and stood between her father and Art. 

Peanut again winked at Rob. 

All the rest of the feet now began to come down 
the stairs, and soon five fat boys in their daddies' 
trousers, and two women looking like Tweedledum 
and Tweedledee (it was Peanut who suggested that I) 
stood in the room, blushing and laughing. 

*' Now come on, we can't think of our clothes any 


more. Let's get to Lost River/' exclaimed the girl 
in pink. 

She seemed to pick Art as her natural escort, and 
the pair of them led the way through the door, be- 
side the guide. 

" I don't see any river, though," said Peanut, to 
the giri he was with, as they went through the woods 
behind the cabin. 

" Of course you don't ; it's a lost river," she said. 

" Oh ! " said Peanut. *' I forgot that. Well, 
here's where it was lost, I guess." 

The guide just ahead of them had suddenly dis- 
appeared into a hole in the ground, helping Art and 
the pink girl down after him. 

" My goodness ! " exclaimed the girl at Peanut's 
side. She was a small girl, with very black eyes, 
which twinkled. The other girls had called her 

*' Oh, it's nothing," Peanut reassured her. " We^ve 
been falling down places since six o'clock." 

** I wasn't thinking of myself," Alice answered, 
'* but of poor Mamma. Mamma isn't so slender as 
— 2l% you are." 

" Mr. Rogers will look after Mamma," said Peanut. 
" Come on I " 

He dropped ahead of her into the hole, and clasp- 
ing his hands in front of him, made a stirrup for her 
to put her foot in, like a step, as she followed. 


They found themselves on a rocky ledge, with 
another drop ahead of them. At the bottom of this 
drop stood the guide, Art, and the pink girl, in day- 
light. The place was really the bottom of a little 
canon, concealed in the woods, and a small river 
(not much more than a brook) flowed along it. On 
their right, to the east, however, the river vanished 
completely out of sight, into a great piled up mass 
of boulders. The leaders waited till all the party 
had arrived at the bottom, and then the guide led 
the way directly in among these boulders, the girls 
and women screaming and laughing as they fol- 

It became damp and cold and dark immediately. 
They entered a sort of cave, made by two rocks 
meeting overhead, and dropped down several feet to 
what felt like a sandy beach, though they could, at 
first, see nothing. But they could hear the water 
running beside them. 

" Look out here,'' said the guide, " or you'll step 
into the water. Follow me." 

Alice, however, didn't follow him. She was a 
frisky girl, and she wanted to see all there was to 
see, so she stepped to the left, and suddenly 

Peanut grabbed her hand and pulled her back. 

" Sh," she whispered. " Up to the knees I But 
Mamma' d make me go back if she knew I " 


"What's the matter, Alice?" called her mother. 

'• She stubbed her toe," Peanut answered, quickly. 

" Oh, you nice little liar ! " chuckled Alice. 

Peanut was beginning to like her ! 

The strange, underground path grew stranger and 
stranger. Sometimes they came out into daylight, 
and saw the sky and the walls of the caiion far above 
them, sometimes they stood in caves fifteen feet 
high, sometimes they had to cross the stream on 
planks, sometimes go up or down ladders. Finally 
they came to a place where the way was completely 
blocked, save for a small hole, which didn't look 
more than two feet across. 

Somebody had painted above it, *'Fat Man's 

*• Don't worry me a bit," said Peanut. 

" Quick, let's get through, and watch Mamma 
come out," cried Alice. 

Art and the pink girl had disappeared into the 
hole already, Art going first. Alice lay down on 
her stomach and began to wriggle through after 
them. Peanut following. The guide remained be- 
hind to help the rest. The passage was on an in- 
cline, leading upward, and it seemed very long. It 
was certainly very dark. But they emerged pres- 
ently (the tunnel coming out four feet above the 
ground, so one had to do quite an acrobatic stunt to 
gain his feet, if he was coming head foremost), and 


found Art and the pink girl waiting for them at the 
mouth of a cave. 

Behind them they could hear the screams and 
laughter of the rest, and Mamma's voice exclaiming, 
" I never can get through there, I tell you ! " 

Alice put her face to the hole and shouted back, 
" Come on, Mamma, we'll pull you through if you 
stick I *' 

Then she looked at her feet. " Gee, Grace," she 
called to the pink girl, " I'm soaked up to my knees ! " 

'* I was soaked up to my neck two days ago," 
Peanut laughed. ** You'll dry. Anyhow, we can 
build a fire when we get out, and you can take off 
your wet things, and sit with your little pink tootsies 
to the blaze." 

Alice, with a laugh, gave him a slap on the cheek. 

** Why, Alice ! " exclaimed the pmk girl, shocked. 

** Oh, he's a fresh one, he needs it," said Alice, 
and turned with a shriek of delight to see the first 
face of the following party emerge through the hole. 
It was *' Mamma " ! Her face was flushed with 
exertion, and wore a look of agonized fright. Her 
hair was disarranged, and hanging into her eyes. 
From behind her issued voices, ** Hurry up, Ma, 
you're blocking the passage ! '^ 

" Come here, you laughing monkey, and help 
your mother down ! " she cried to Alice. " How do 
you suppose I can get out of this hole head first ? " 


But Alice was too doubled up with mirth to move. 
Art and Peanut sprang to her relief. They took her 
by the shoulders, one on each side, and pulled her 
out, supporting her till she could get her feet down 
on the ground. Then they hid on either side of the 
tunnel mouth, and as fast as a head appeared, they 
grabbed the shoulders behind it, without a word of 
warning, and pulled the surprised person forth. The 
only one who fooled them was the guide. He came 
feet foremost ! 

There was nearly a mile of this curious, under- 
ground path, amid caves and tumbled boulders, now 
close beside the sunken river, now above it. Some 
of the caves were very cold. But suddenly they 
saw full daylight ahead, and they stepped out of the 
last cave upon a ledge of rock, over which the river 
dashed in a pretty waterfall, and went flowing away 
down the hill through the woods, on a perfectly sane 
and normal above-ground bed. 

" Well, that is quite an experience ! " said Papa, 
wiping his forehead. 

Mamma looked at her soiled overalls, tried to fix 
up her hair, and then fanned herself with the palm 
of her hand. 

** Well, I guess the young folks enjoyed it more 
than I did ! " she panted. Then she spied Alice's 
feet. " Alice ! " she cried. '* Your feet ! " 

" What's the matter with my feet ? " said Alice. 


" You'll get your death of cold ! " 

" Nonsense, my dear," said Papa. 

** Nonsense or not, she's got to dry them," the 
mother said. "We must go right back to that 

'* I have a better idea, if you'll excuse me, Mrs. 
Green," said Rob (he and the oldest of the girls had 
evidently been exchanging names). " We'll build a 
fire here by the river, and all have lunch together. 
While she's drying her stockings, we Scouts will 
take back the overalls, and bring down all your 
grub and our packs, and then we can all walk back 
to North Woodstock together after lunch." 

" A very good idea, too," exclaimed Papa Green. 

**Well, I'm willing," said the mother. '* I don't 
much want to take that walk back, that's a fact." 

" Fire, boys ! " cried Peanut, starting to scramble 
down beside the falls. 

** Hold on ! " Frank cried. " Nobody stirs from 
this spot till I get a picture." 

** Oh," squealed the girls. " You shan't take our 
picture in these I " 

"Yes, I shall ! Peanut, you guard the path I " 

" Right-o," said Peanut. " No lady shall pass save 
over my dead body I " 

Frank unslung his camera from the case, and 
made everybody get in a group, with the girls in 
front. They all tried to sit down, to hide the over- 


alls, but Rob and Lou and Art kept pulling them up. 
Every time they were up, Frank snapped a picture. 

" Now Fve got you all I " he laughed. 

** What ? You were taking us all the time ? Oh, 
you mean thing ! " cried Alice. *' Let's break the 
camera, girls ! " 

She started for Frank, but he disappeared over 
the ledge, with a hoot. 

The Scouts had left their hatchets behind, but they 
made a fire pit, and kindled a good fire with dead 
stuff, broken by hand. Peanut rigged up a stick 
rack beside it for Alice to hang her stockings over. 
Meanwhile, off in the bushes, they could hear the 
girls and women laughing, as they got out of the 
overalls. They came back looking like normal girls 
again, only their skirts were rather crumpled. 

The Scouts took the overalls, and, with the guide 
and Mr. Rogers, turned toward the road, which led 
back to the store. Peanut lingered a bit in the rear. 

"Toast your tootsies nice and warm," he whis- 
pered to Alice, and ducked quickly away from the 
swing she aimed at him. 

" Alice ! " he heard Art's girl saying, ** I wish you 
wouldn't be such a tomboy." 

Peanut grinned to himself, and caught up with the 

"Some skirts, those, eh, Art?" he said, giving 
Art a dig in the ribs. 


Art turned red, and punched back for answer. 

"What was it Art was saying back in Beaver 
Meadow about wishing there weren^t any girls in the 
world?" asked Rob. 

" Oh, they're all right, if they wear pink*' said 

" You all make me sick," Art retorted. " Gee, 
Peanut, you got your face slapped, all right ! " 

**Sure I did," said Peanut. "That's a mark of 
affection. I made a hit with her, you see." 

" That's a rotten joke," said Art. 

" All right. Here's another. You go off and eat 
your lunch by yourself, if you don't like girls. The 
rest of us'll have ours with the crowd. We'll let 
him, won't we, fellers ? " 

Art only grunted, and made no answer to the 
laughter of the rest. 

" All of which goes to show, Art," remarked Mr. 
Rogers, who had been listening, " that it's not safe 
to generalize about women. A man's always bound 
to meet one who'll upset all his ideas." 

" Or slap his face," said Art, with a poke at 

At the little store, the boys paid the guide for 
their share in the expedition, and shouldered both 
their own loads and the lunch baskets the other 
party had brought with them, and left in the store. 
Then they hurried back down the road. 


Peanut ran on ahead before they got to the camp 
site, and slipping as quietly as he could through the 
trees and bushes, came suddenly out into the open 
space where the fire was. The girls were all sitting 
in the shade, except Alice. She was wading bare- 
foot in the brook, while her stockings and shoes 
hung by the fire. 

Peanut stood there grinning a second before 
anybody saw him, and then Alice spied him and 

" Oh, you little beast ! " she said, jumping out of 
the water, and grabbing up a tin folding cup, which 
her father had evidently carried in his pocket. She 
filled this with water, and ran at Peanut, barefoot, ap- 
pearing not to mind the rough ground at all. Pea- 
nut was so loaded down with his blanket and pack 
and two lunch baskets that he was in no condition to 
escape. He tried to run, but his blanket roll caught 
in a bush, and before he could yank it free he feit the 
whole cupful of water hit his face, and go running 
down his neck. 

*' Alice ! " called Mrs. Green. " Alice I Come 
right back here ! Aren't you ashamed ! " 

** Not a bit," said Alice. " He's perfectly horrid, 
coming sneaking up that way on purpose ! " 

" Go put on your shoes and stockings and then 
apologize 1 " said her mother, sternly. 

** Ho, that's all right," said Peanut. ** I was aw- 


ful hot. The water feels good. I'd like some 

** You would, would you ? " said Alice, making as 
if she were going to the stream again. 

" Only give me time to get my mouth open and 
catch it," Peanut laughed. 

'* Alice ! " said her mother, again, " I told you to 
put your shoes and stockings on." 

" They're not dry yet," said the girl, feeling of 

*' Oh, dear, what can you do ? The rest will be 
here in a moment I " exclaimed her sister, the girl in 

" I have it ! " Peanut said. He slung off his pack, 
and produced his pair of extra socks. They were 
heavy and long, being made to wear with high boots. 
Alice snatched them from him with a laugh, and, 
turning her back, sat down to put them on. Then 
she got up and turned around. Everybody laughed. 
The toes were too long, and flapped a bit when she 
walked. Her feet looked huge, for a girl. 

" I hope I wear a big hole in 'em," she was say- 
ing, as the rest of the Scouts came up. 

But she wasn't half so mad at Peanut as she had 
pretended, evidently, for while Art and Lou were 
t:iking all the responsibility of cooking the lunch and 
making the coffee, the two of them walked of! to- 
gether up the stream to the falls, Alice giving little 


** Ouches ! " every minute or two as her shoeless feet 
stepped on a root or a hard pebble, and they had to 
be called back by the rest when lunch was ready. 

It was certainly a merry meal. The girls made 
birch bark plates, and they had paper napkins in 
their baskets, and plenty of doughnuts to go with 
the coffee. Art used the last of the flour and con- 
densed milk for flapjacks, cooking busily while the 
rest ate, and looking very happy when the girl in 
pink said, *' It's too bad. You aren't getting any- 
thing at all." 

" He don't mind," said Peanut. " He'd rather 
cook than eat anything, especially for girls." 

** Does he like girls ? " asked Alice, who was 
seated on the ground, with her feet sticking out, so 
she could wiggle the dangling toes of Peanut's socks, 
which made everybody laugh. 

" Does he like girls ! You should have heard 
what he said about 'em this morning ! " Peanut 

" Shut up — or when I get you to-night " Art 

half whispered this at Peanut. 

" Oh, tell me, tell me ! " cried Alice. 

" I'll whisper it," said Peanut. 

He whispered in her ear, and she burst out laugh- 
ing. Her sister, in pink, was trying hard to hear, 
but she couldn't. 

" No, rU never tell Grace,^^ said Alice, wriggling 


her toes with delight. ** Oh, it's a lovely story, 
Grace ! " 

Grace moved away to the other side of the circle, 
with a pout, and she and Art sat together and fin- 
ished their lunch. 

After lunch the girls insisted on clearing the dishes. 
" It is a woman's place to do the dishes ! " they said, 
and when the dishes were done everybody sat down 
under the trees, and the Scouts, at Lou's suggestion, 
got out their knives, and carved their staffs. 

First, they cut their initials, and then in Roman 
numerals, the mileage for the day before. '* Let's 
see — nineteen miles to the top of Moosilauke, one 
mile down the road and back, a mile maybe to camp 
— twenty-one miles," said Peanut, " that's two XX's 
and a L" 

When he had finished, Alice took the staff out of 
his hand. 

** You've forgotten something," she said. 

'' What ? " asked Peanut. 

" My initials, silly," she answered. '* If you don't 
put them on, how will you remember me ? " 

** By a sore face and a wet shirt," Peanut replied. 

" Now, don't be a goose. Put my initials on," 
the girl laughed-—" A. G." 

" It's not N. G. anyhow," said Peanut. He care- 
fully cut her initials beside his own, at the top of the 
staff, and of course Alice showed it to her sister and 


the other girls, and the rest of the Scouts had to do 
the same thing By the time it was done, Mr. 
Green was fast asleep, Mrs. Green was nodding, and 
Mr. Rogers was looking at his watch. 

** I'm afraid it's time this little midsummer day's 
dream was ended," he smiled. " We've got some 
way to go yet." 

" Wake up Papa, then," said Alice. " Here are 
your old socks. Oh, dear, there's no hole in 'em, 
either. 1 tried^ though." 

She pulled off the socks, tossed them to Peanut, 
and went gingerly on her bare feet to the fire, where 
her own shoes and stockings had quite driedo In a 
moment, they were on. She did everything quickly. 
She grabbed a blade of grass, then, and tickled her 
father's nose. He put up his hand and brushed his 
face, still sleeping. It was the laughter and his 
wife's voice crying, " Alice ! Behave yourself 1 " 
which really woke him up. 

The five miles to North Woodstock were quickly 
made — rather too quickly, perhaps, to please the 
Scouts. They were having a good time. They 
stopped for a few minutes only to look at Agassiz 
Basin, where Lost River makes some lovely bathing 
pools on the rocky ledges. The Greens, of course, 
invited them into their hotel for supper, but Mr. 
Rogers shook his head. 

" No," said he, " we've got to get along up the 


Notch yet, and be ready for the climb over Liberty 
and Lafayette to-morrow. I'm afraid weVe got to 
be on our way/' 

The girls gathered around Frank. One of them 
wrote an address on a card, and gave it to him. 
*'Now, promise," they said, ''you've got to send us 
all one of those horrid pictures." 

" If they're so horrid, I shouldn't think you'd want 
'em," said Frank. 

** Well, you send 'em just the same," they an- 

Everybody shook hands all around, and Alice, as 
she released Peanut's hand, managed to slap his face 
lightly, and ran laughing up the steps. The Scouts 
tramped away into the village, while the girls waved 
their handkerchiefs from the porch. 

** Yes, Art," Peanut said, ** girls are a pesky nui- 
sance. They look so ugly in pink dresses." 

" Oh, shut up on that ! " Art cried. " You've got 
a ducking coming to you in the next brook Any- 
how, mine wasn't a face-slapping tomboy ! " 

" No, she was just too sweet," laughed Peanut, as 
he dodged Art's swing at his head. 

At the village they stocked up on provisions — 
bacon, condensed milk, tea and cofiee, flour and 
sweet chocolate — for their provisions were well used 
up, and soon they were plodding up the road, north- 
ward, and entering the Franconia Notch. 


The road was quite unlike that down which they 
had tramped two days before, on the west side of 
Kinsman. It was macadamized and full of motors. 

** This is one of the through highways from the 
south to the northern side of the mountains," said 
the Scout Master. ** I fear we've hit it at about the 
worst time of day, too, because we're only twelve 
miles from the Profile House, which is the end of the 
day's run for many cars. Most of 'em seem to be 
going in that direction." 

'' I should think they were," said Rob. ** My 
blanket is covered with dust already." 

" Gosh, my lun^s are covered with dust," said 
Peanut. ** How far have we got to go, dodging 
these things ? " 

" Only six miles," the Scout Master answered. 
** I guess we can stand it that long." 

It was getting on toward dark in the Notch (where 
the sun seems to set much earlier than outside, be- 
cause of the high western wall) when they reached 
the Flume House. 

** It's too dark to go up into the Flume to camp 
to-night," Mr. Rogers declared. '' Besides, I don't 
know just where the path up Liberty starts, and 
we'd better wait for daylight to ask. We'll go up 
the road a few rods, and camp by some brook close 
to the road. Then in the morning we can see the 
Flume and the Basin and all the sights." 


The motors had ceased going by now, and the 
road was empty. They very soon came to a good 
brook, and a few paces off the road put them into 
the seclusion of the woods. Here they camped, and 
had their supper. The day had been a compara- 
tively light one — -four miles down Moosilauke, six 
through Lost River and to North Woodstock, and 
six to camp — sixteen in all, mostly down-hill. 

'* And don't forget the two miles at lunch to the 
store and back for our packs," said Frank. 

" An even eighteen, then," said Rob. '' Gee, 
that's not very good." 

** Women — they're to blame for everything, ain't 
they, Art?" said Peanut. 

Art got up and made for his tormentor, but 
Peanut was too quick for him. He was away into 
the rough, dark woods, and Art gave up the chase. 
It wasn't long after, however, in spite of the fact that 
they had walked only eighteen miles, when the camp 
was asleep. 

A Strange Adventure in the Night 

IT seemed to Peanut that he had hardly been 
asleep at all, when he was awakened by the 
sound of a motor. He listened, cross at being 
roused, for the noise to die away up or down the 
road, but it didn't. Instead of that, he plainly heard 
the power shut off and the engine come to rest, close 
to the camp — right in the road opposite the camp, 
in fact. He sat up, rather startled. Then he heard 
voices, men's voices. They were talking in low 
tones, which struck him as strange, because out here 
in the woods there was no reason why they should 
be afraid of waking people up. He wondered for a 
second if they could have designs on the camp, but 
glancing at the camp-fire, he saw that it had gone 
entirely out, so that nobody could have seen the 
camp from the road. As he sat there in the dark, 
straining his ears, Art woke up, as you often will 
when you are sleeping close to somebody else who 
has waked. 

" What is it ?" Art said. 

" Sh ! " cautioned Peanut. He whispered softly 

what had roused him. 



** Let's do some scouting," said Art. 

They put on their shoes quietly, without waking 
any of the others. Art tried to see his watch, but 
couldn't. " Never mind," he whispered, and the 
two boys crawled softly out of camp. It was easy 
to get across the brook, because the brook itself 
made so much babbling over its stones that the 
sound of footsteps could not be heard. Once across, 
they were close to the road, in some bushes about 
three feet lower than the road level. They could see 
little, in the starlight, but they could make out the 
shadowy form of a motor, and two men sitting in it. 
The head lights and the red tail light were all shut off ! 

" That's funny," Art whispered. " Gee, it's against 
the law, too." 

The boys listened. The men were talking in low 
tones. Their voices were rough, and they swore 
about every second word. 

'' We'll start in fifteen minutes," one of them was 
saying. " Those swells 'round the Profile House hit 
the hay late. Won't do to get there too soon. It's 
almost the last house down this way — lucky for us. 
We can turn the car at the wide place in the road 
where guys stop to see the Stone Face, and be all 
ready for a quick getaway." 

*' How do you know they ain't got a strong arm 
guy guardin' the sparkle?" asked the other man. 

" They ain't, I tell yer," said the first. " Ain't me 


friend Jim got a stable job at the Profile just to tip 
us off ? Ain't we got to split with him ? Guess 
they didn't reckon there' d be any need to watch the 
weddin' swag, way up here in these God forsaken 
hills. Ha! They forgot that automobiles has 
changed things I " 

**They are going to rob somebody's house — at 
the Profile," Art whispered, pulling Peanut back 
toward the brook. " Gee, how can we stop 'em?" 

" Let's rouse the camp, and pinch 'em right now," 
said Peanut. 

" And get shot full of holes in the dark, and they 
get away in their car ? Not much 1 " 

" They'd have to crank it, and we could chop up 
the tires with our hatchets." 

" Probably got a self starter, and what would they 
do to us while we were chopping ? They'd have time 
to get away from us and do the job before we could 
hike six miles to the Profile and give the alarm. No, 
sir, we've got to get there somehow as soon as they 
do ! " 

" We could sneak a ride on the trunk rack behind 
the machine !" whispered Peanut. 

" If it's got one — quick — hatchets I " 

The two Scouts slipped back into camp. Art 
grabbed up his hatchet, which he always kept 
beside his pillow, and slipped it in his belt. Pea- 
nut put on his. Then Art leaned down beside Rob, 


shook him gently, with one hand over his mouth, 
and whispered in his ear. 

*' Don't speak I " he said. " Peanut and I are go- 
ing up the road to the Profile House. Follow us in 
the morning. Cut out the climb. We'll explain 
later. We've got to go." 

" Why — what " said the astonished Rob. 

" Sh ! Don't ask now. Robbers. We've got to 
give warning." 

** Let me go, too," Rob whispered, trying to rise. 

Art pushed him down. ** We've got to hook on 
behind an auto. There'd not be room. You stay 
here, and keep the camp quiet." 

Rob lay back, a little too sleepy quite to realize 
what he was letting the two younger Scouts in for, 
and they slipped out of camp again. This time 
they went down the brook, walking in the water so 
they would make no sound of breaking bushes, and 
came out into the road two rods below the motor. 
Then they stole on tiptoe, hardly daring to breathe, 
close up behind. As the rear lamp was not lighted, 
they felt softly with their hands to see if there was 
anything to ride on. Luckily, there was a trunk 
rack — empty ! Straps across it made a rough kind 
of seat, just large enough to hold them. 

** We can't get on yet — not till they start," whis- 
pered Art. " It would shake the springs." 

The men were still talking, and the boys crouched 


behind the car, in silence, waiting for them to start 
It seemed to Peanut as if his heart beats must be 
heard, they were so loud in his breast. 

Suddenly they heard a rustle and crack in the 
bushes almost beside them. 

** What's that?" said one of the men, sharply. 

*' Oh, a rabbit, or something," the other replied. 
" There ain't a house anywhere 'round here. Don't 
be a goat." 

** It's Rob. He'll spoil everything," whispered 
Art, dropping on his hands and knees, and literally 
crawling out from behind the motor to the roadside 
bushes where the noise came from. 

The noise, of course, had ceased when the men 
spoke. Peanut could no longer see Art, in the 
shadow of the bushes, but his excited ear could hear 
the faint sound of a whisper. He wondered why the 
burglars didn't hear it, also, but they were talking 
again, oblivious. 

A minute later Art returned, and before he could 
whisper, they heard one of the robbers strike a 
match. Evidently he looked at the time, for he 
said, '* One o'clock. Let her go." 

There was the click of a self starter, and the engine 
began to purr. A loud cough came from the ex- 
haust at Peanut's feet, and made him jump. The 
car began to throb. As it started, both boys swung 
as lightly as they could up on the trunk rack, their 


legs dangling out behind, and the motor moved up 
the road slowly. Having no lights on, the burglars 
couldn't drive rapidly. Once they ran off the side 
into some bushes, and had to reverse. 

They swore, and evidently turned on the minor 
head lights, for after that the car went faster and kept 
the road. The dust sucked up into the boys' faces. 

" I gotter sneeze," whispered Peanut. 

** Quick, tie your handkerchief over your nose and 
mouth," Art whispered back. 

It was a ticklish job letting go both hands to tie 
on the handkerchiefs, but they managed to do it 
without falling off, and the sneezes were averted. 
The sharp edge of the rack hurt their legs. The 
dust almost choked them, even through their hand- 
kerchiefs. But they clung fast, and for fifteen or 
twenty minutes — it seemed hours — they rode in this 
uncomfortable position rapidly through the dark. It 
was very dark indeed, for most of the way was 
through woods, and they could scarcely see the 

Presently the machine stopped. Art yanked off 
his handkerchief. " They are going to turn it here. 
Quick, into the bushes when they back up ! " 

The driver ran the car to the right, on what ap- 
peared like a very wide place in the road, and then 
reversed. As she slowly backed toward the edge, 
the boys waited till their feet were almost in the 


bushes, and then they dropped. While the car 
moved forward again, they wriggled hastily on their 
stomachs in among the dusty bushes, and lay there, 
not daring even to whisper, while the driver again 
reversed, and brought his car around facing back 
down the road up which they had just come. The 
two men were now close to the Scouts. They 
stopped the engine, and got out. One of them got 
out on the side toward the boys. Peanut could al- 
most have stretched forth his hand and touched the 
burglar's foot. 

But he stepped away, unconscious, and took some- 
thing out of the tonneau of the car. 

" Got the sacks?" the other asked. 

" O. K.," said the first. 

The two men moved up the road on foot, leaving 
the car behind, beside the road. Art held Peanut 
down till they were so far away that their footsteps 
were not audible. Then he sprang up. 

** Quick!" he whispered, **take your hatchet and 
cut the tires. Don't chop and make a noise — draw 
the edge over." 

" They'll explode," said Peanut. 

"That's so. Wait — find the valves, and let the 
air out ! " 

The two boys worked rapidly, with matches. 
They let the air out of each tire, and then cut the 
rubber through, to make doubly sure. 


'* Wish I knew more about cars," Art said. " There 
must be some way to put the engine on the blink." 

Peanut lifted the hood. *' Hold a match — not too 
close ! " he said. ** Here — here's a wire. That'll dis- 
connect the battery, or something." 

He yanked the wire out of its connection. 

** Good," Art exclaimed. " Now, up the road 
after 'em I " 

The two boys stood directly under the Great Stone 
Face, one of the sights of the White Mountains which 
they had come three hundred miles to see — but they 
never knew it, nor thought about it. They began to 
run up the road, in the dark, as fast as they could go. 

Before long, however, they pulled down to a walk. 

" Those burglars will reconnoitre first, before they 
try to break in," Art whispered. " Go easy, now. 
They said it was almost the last house this way." 

A moment later, the Scouts came out into an open 
space. At the farther end, they could see the night 
lamps in the windows of what looked like a hotel. 

'* Must be the Profile House," said Peanut. 

To the left they could see other houses, a row of 
them, close together, and in the trees, directly at their 
left, they could distinguish the outline of what seemed 
to be the last house of all. They stole toward it, on 
tiptoe, along a path in front. It was quiet. There 
was not a sound in the world. The whole settle- 
ment seemed asleep. But Art suddenly put his hand 


on Peanut's shoulder, and they dropped down to- 
gether on the ground. The two men were sneaking 
from behind this house toward the next one. Art 
had seen their figures, as they passed a dimly lighted 
window of the second house. A second later, and 
the boys heard a faint, curious sound. 

** I know it ! " Peanut whispered. " It's a glass 
cutter. Heard it at the painter's shop." 

They waited breathlessly, and heard a window 
catch sprung, and a window opened. 

"They're cHmbing in !" said Art. ** Quick, now, 
to rouse the house ! " 

He sprang up. Peanut after him, and emitted a 
Comanche yell, and then began shouting at the top 
of his lungs, ** Robbers ! Robbers ! " 

" Robbers ! Robbers ! " yelled Peanut. 

The two of them sprang up the steps of the house and 
began to pound the door with their fists, crying, '' Rob- 
bers, robbers I " all the while, as loud as they could. 

The response was startlingly sudden, and came 
from all directions at once. The first thing was a 
switching on of lights in the house itself, in the upper 
rooms. Then the hall light came on. A second 
later, the boys saw the two burglars come rushing 
around the corner to the path, and make hot footed 
by the nearest way, which was the path, for the road 
and their auto. Art, so excited he hardly knew what 
he was doing, jumped off the veranda and started 


to follow, yelling " Stop I " But they kept on run- 
ning. Across the clearing from the Profile House 
came the sounds of running feet, as two watchmen 
raced to the scene. In the other houses lights came 
on, heads appeared in windows, the front door of 
the house where the boys were pounding was thrown 
open, and two men appeared there in pajamas and 
dressing gowns. Behind them the boys had a gHmpse 
of frightened women in nightgowns, and servants in 
night clothes, also. 

** What's the matter, what's the matter ? " the men 

** Two burglars — got in your house — side window 
— they've run down the road to their auto — we punc- 
tured the tires " Peanut gasped out. 

"We can catch 'em if we hurry," cried Art. 

The watchmen were now on the scene. 

"After 'em, then, boys ! " they shouted. " Show 
us the way ! " 

Two or three other men, half dressed, had now 
appeared on the scene, the boys never knew from 
where. They were too excited. Peanut and Art 
dashed down the path, the rest following, and led 
the way toward the stalled motor. 

"They can't use the car," Peanut panted back 
over his shoulder. " They'll have to beat it on foot ! ' 

The pursuing party was going rapidly, but Peanut 
was running faster than the rest. He was now fifty 


yards ahead. He suddenly heard the engine of the 
motor start. 

" They've got that wire back ! " he thought. " But 
they can't go far on flat tires." 

He yelled back at the rest to hurry, and at the 
sound of the yell, he heard the car start down the 
road. It was gone when the rest came into the open 
space 1 

"We hacked the tires to ribbons," Art panted. 
" They're on bare rims." 

" Go back to the house, Tom, quick," said one of 
the watchmen. ** Get the Flume House by 'phone, 
and have 'em put a guard across the road there, to 
stop every car and every person that comes down. 
We'll get a car out, and follow 'em." 

Everybody now ran up the road again, meeting 
more half-dressed men on the way. 

"Where on earth did you kids come from, any- 
way ? " asked somebody for the first time. 

" We were camping down near the road by the 
Flume," said Art, '* and we heard 'em stop their car 
— woke us up " 

" And I heard 'em planning this job," said Pea- 
nut, while Art got his breath. 

" He crawled out and heard 'em," Art went on, 
" and woke me, and we sneaked onto the trunk rack 
behind, and rode up here to give the alarm." 

" Say, you're some kids," the watchman com- 


mented. " Cut their tires — that*s a good one 1 
They were after the Goodwin wedding presents. 
Told Mr. Goodwin he ought to have a detective." 

** Here he is now," said somebody. 

Another man had appeared. ** No, they didn't 
have time to take a thing," he was saying, "so far 
as we can see. Have you got 'em ? Who was' it 
warned us ? " 

The boys were pointed out to him. ** Thank you 
both," he said. " I'll thank you more in the morn- 
ing. You want a motor to chase 'em in ? Get mine 
out, quick ! " 

Three minutes later, four motors were brought 
from the garages, and more than a dozen of the men 
who were gathered in the road piled into them. 
Peanut and Art rode in the first car, with two of the 
watchmen. Art had his hatchet in his hand, and 
the watchmen had their revolvers ready, too. They 
went down the road at high speed, the search-lights 
throwing the road and the bordering trees into bril- 
liant white relief ahead, amid the surrounding gloom. 
The occupants of t1ie car sat with their eyes glued on 
the end of the white shaft of light. 

" Some rims on that car ! " said the driver. He 
slowed down. " See, there are the tracks. They 
must have been traveling, too. How many of 'em 
were there, did you say ? " 

" Two," said Art. 


'* Light load. Maybe they got to the Flume 
House before a rim broke." 

He put on speed again, and they flashed into a 
level stretch. Art and Peanut both exclaimed at 
once, '* Look — there's Rob I " 

Sure enough, standing beside the road, was Rob, 
plainly to be seen in the glare of the powerful search 
lamps. The driver put on brakes, and stopped. 
Rob jumped into the car. 

*' A car just went by — two minutes ago — no, less 
— a minute. I couldn't sleep again, worrying about 
you kids. It was those same men. Art. Heard 'em 

The pursuing car once more leaped forward. 
Looking back. Peanut saw the lamps of the motor 
next behind them. The driver put on speed now 
with a vengeance. It seemed hardly a second be- 
fore ahead of them they heard a shout, and they 
emerged from the woods into the clearing by the 
Flume House, and their lamps struck full upon a 
dramatic picture. 

There, in front, was the car they were chasing. 
Across the road was strung a heavy rope with a red 
lantern swung from it, and close to the car, on either 
side, stood two men, with gleaming revolvers pointed 
at the two burglars on the seat. The revolver bar- 
rels flashed in the glare of the search-light. Art and 
Peanut and the rest in the pursuing car sprang 


to the ground and ran forward. The two burglars 
offered no resistance. What was the use ? They 
were looking into four pistol barrels now I Ropes 
were quickly brought, and their hands tied. The 
other three pursuing cars came up, the excitement 
roused a number of guests in the hotel, and Art and 
Peanut found themselves in the midst of a throng as 
the captives were being led to the concrete garage 
to be locked up. Everybody wanted to know all 
about it, and the boys had to repeat their story a 
dozen times. 

Finally Mr. Goodwin and a young man who 
seemed to be his son, and who had been one of those 
to open the door, got hold of them. 

** You boys have saved us many thousands of dol- 
lars," the father said. " We don't quite know how 
to thank you. Of course, I know something about 
Scouts, and I won't offer you money, because you 
wouldn't take it." 

" Oh, no, sir," said Art. 

** Of course not. But I've got a motor you can 
have to go where you please in to-morrow, or next 
day, or any time, and I own a whole fish pond in 
the woods back here, with a cabin on it where you 
can camp, and my wife and daughter will want to 
thank you. You must give me your names, so my 
other daughter, who was married this morning, and 
whose presents you saved, can write to you." 


Art and Peanut both stammered, rather uncomfort- 

*' Why, that's all right, sir," Art finally said. " We 
just did what seemed right — had to do something 
quick. We're camped just up the road, with a party. 
We're going over Liberty and Lafayette to-morrow, 
and then on to Washington. We're much obliged, 
but I guess there's nothing we could use. You see, 
we're on a schedule." 

** Take me back to your camp," said Mr. Goodwin, 
with a smile toward his son. 

" Gosh, I don't know whether we can ever find it 
in the dark I " cried Peanut. 

They got into Mr. Goodwin's car, with Rob. 

" Let me ride in front," said Rob, " and go slow. 
There will be wheel tracks where the car turned in to 
pick me up just now." 

"Well, that's an ideal" said Mr. Goodwin. 
" You boys seem to be ready for anything." 

** Be prepared — that's our motto," Peanut replied, 

The car moved slowly back up the road, and Rob 
and the driver kept their eyes open. Soon Rob 
signaled to stop. The driver took a pocket electric 
flash lamp from under the seat, and handed it to 
Rob, who led the way through the bushes, and 
across the brook. He flashed it up and down the 
wall of bushes and trees, and suddenly, out of the 


darkness, came a sleepy grunt, and a startled, " Hi, 
what's that ? Who's there ? " 

** Wake up, Frank, and hear the birdies sing," 
cried Peanut. 

Frank, Lou and Mr. Rogers sat up, rubbing their 
eyes, as the others came into camp. Art lit the 
camp lantern, and by its light the story of the night's 
adventure was hastily told. 

" Well, well 1 " exclaimed Mr. Rogers. ** I am a 
bad Scout Master ! To think I slept right through 
everything ! " 

" I think you are a pretty good one, to develop 
such Scouts as these," said Mr. Goodwin. 

" Oh, rats I " exclaimed Frank, " to think I missed 
it all I " 

*' Me, too," said Lou. 

*' They didn't let me in on much," Rob laughed. 

** Why didn't you wake the rest of us ? " Lou de- 
manded of Peanut. 

** The more awake, the more noise," said Peanut. 
** Rob almost gummed the game. Would have if 
the burglars hadn't thought he was a rabbit." 

" Well, boys," Mr. Goodwin put in, " you want to 
be going back to sleep." He looked at his watch, 
and added, " My, my ! it's three o'clock. The sun 
will be up in less than two hours ! Now, I want 
you all to come to my house to dinner to-morrow 
night. We've got to celebrate, and talk this ad- 


venture over. You can get down Lafayette by 
seven, can't you ? I'm sure you can. Seven o'clock, 

*• But we haven't got any joy rags," Peanut pro- 

Mr. Goodwin laughed. " You'll have appetites^ — 
that's all I ask ! " 

He spoke a few words quietly to the Scout Master 
and then went back to his car. Peanut and Art 
kicked off their shoes again, and lay down with the 
rest, to sleep. But they were too excited to sleep. 
They lay side by side and conversed in whispers of 
the night's excitement, while the Scout Master and 
Rob were also whispering. Once they heard Rob 
say, " But it was the only way to save the property, 
and if I'd waked you all up, what good would it 
have done ? We couldn't get to the Profile on foot 
till long after the trouble was over. I just had to 
trust 'em. It seemed to me a job Scouts ought to 
tackle, even if it was dangerous." 

** I guess you're right," they heard Mr. Rogers 
answer. " But I hope the next time we can all be 
in on the adventure. I don't like to have my party 
split up when there's danger." 

** Good old Mr. Rogers ! " whispered Peanut. 
" Guess we gave him a scare." 

"There's one thing we forgot," said Art, suddenly. 
"They said they had a pal — Jim, wasn't it? — em- 


ployed in the Profile stables. We ought to tip off the 
Profile House first thing in the morning/' 

** Well, you can't remember everything, when 
you're chasing burglars," said Peanut, as he rubbed 
his dust-filled eyes. 


Over the Lafayette Ridge, with a Dinner 
Party at the End 

THE two adventurers must have dropped off to 
sleep toward daylight, for they were both con- 
scious of being shaken and told to get up. 

Peanut rubbed his eyes. " Gee, I dreamed one 
of those burglars had grabbed me and was dragging 
me into Lost River," he said. 

'' I suppose if I'd slapped your face you'd have 
dreamed of Alice Green," Lou laughed. ** Come on, 
get up and wash yourself. Golly, but youVe dirty ! " 

Peanut and Art were certainly dirty. They had 
gone on their expedition the night before without 
hats, and their hair was full of dust, their faces 
smeared with it, and their hands almost black from 
clinging to the dusty trunk rack behind the motor. 
They both got up, and took off their clothes, shaking 
clouds of dust out of them. Then they went down 
to the brook, shivering in the chill morning air (it 
was full daylight, but the sun was still hidden be- 
hind the high eastern wall of Liberty) and washed 
themselves. When they returned to camp, they 
found breakfast waiting. 



" Well, well, it pays to be a hero," said Peanut. 
*' Somebody else does the work for you, then." 

" Don't worry, it won't happen often, Mr. Modesty," 
said Frank. *' We were too hungry to wait, that's all." 

After breakfast they doused their fire, packed up, 
and went down the road to the Flume House. It 
was still so early that none of the guests in the old 
hotel were astir, though servants were about, sweep- 
ing the verandas. 

Peanut, Art and Rob showed where the rope had 
been stretched across the road, with a red lantern on 
it, to stop the escaping motor, and then led the way 
to the garage. The two watchmen, pistols in hand, 
were sitting before the door. 

"Hello, boys!" the head watchman said. "We 
still got 'em in there, in the corner room. Sheriff's 
coming over from Littleton for 'em as soon as he 
can get here. You'd better not look at 'em — might 
make 'em unhappy," he added to Peanut, who was 
trying to look in the high window. 

Peanut laughed. "We did rather gum their 
game, didn't we?" 

" You sure did. Here, stand on this chair." 

The boys all took a turn looking in the window. 
What they saw was two men evidently asleep on a 
blanket on the floor. 

" Don't seem to trouble *em much," said Peanut 
" Where's their car ? " 


One of the watchmen led the way into the garage, 
and showed them the car, which had come six miles 
on the rims. 

** Stolen, of course,*' he said. '* It's a five thousand 
dollar car, too. Somebody else will thank you, be- 
side Mr. Goodwin. Oh, say, I nearly forgot. The 
sheriff says to hold you boys till he comes, because 
you've got to give evidence." 

** Oh, no I " they all exclaimed. *' We've got to 
get up Lafayette ! " 

"Tell the sheriff we'll be at Mr. Goodwin's at 
seven this evening, and he can take the boys' affi- 
davits then," said Mr. Rogers. 

" Well, I dunno. He told me particular to keep 

**You can't keep 'em if they want to go, you 
know, without a warrant," Mr. Rogers smiled. 
** Here, keep their names and addresses for him, 
and tell him, Mr. Goodwin's this evening." 

** Well, you got a fine day for the mountain," the 
watchman said. " Go see the Pool and the Flume 
first, and then just keep right up the head of the 
Flume. You'll hit the path." 

" How long will it take us to make Lafayette ? " 
asked Rob. 

" Six hours, I guess," he answered. 

" Easy," said they. '* Good-bye." 

They had turned away before Art and Peanut re- 


membered to tip off the watchman about the third 
thief, Jim, at the Profile stables. Then they started 
once more. 

The party now crossed the road, and entered a 
path through the woods, marked " The Pool." After 
a short walk through dense woods, they descended 
rapidly through a break in a cliff wall, for nearly a 
hundred and fifty feet, and stood beside the strangest 
little lake they had ever beheld. It was about a 
hundred and fifty feet across, more or less circular 
in shape, and surrounded by high cliffs which made 
it seem like a pond at the bottom of a crater. The 
water, which was astonishingly clear, came into it 
at the upper end in the form of a cascade, and es- 
caped not far from the boys through a fissure, or 
tiny caiion, in the rocks. 

" My, rd like to swim in that I What a place to 
dive in ! " cried Art. *' How deep is it ? " 

"About fifty feet, I believe," said the Scout Master. 

" Looks a thousand," said Peanut. " Come on, 
let's all have one dive." 

Rob felt of the water. " One would be about all 
you'd want," he said. " Besides, we haven't time." 

The Scouts left the Pool reluctantly, climbed back 
up the cliff, and found the path to the Flume. This 
Flume, they soon discovered, resembled almost ex- 
actly the flume on Kinsman, save that the walls were 
higher and stood farther apart, and it was also 


longer. But the path to it was much more traveled, 
and there was a board walk built up through it be- 
side the brook, so that it did not seem so wild nor 
impressive as the smaller flume on Kinsman. They 
soon passed through it, found the path up Liberty, 
and began to climb. 

As on all the White Mountains, the first part of 
the climb led through woods, and no views were to 
be had, neither of the summit ahead nor the valley 
behind. It was a steep path, too, much steeper than 
the Benton Trail up Moosilauke, though not so steep 
as the Beaver Brook Trail down which they had 
tumbled the day before. At first everybody was 
chattering gaily, and Peanut and Art were telling 
over again all their experiences of the night before. 
But gradually, as the sun mounted, as the trail grew 
still steeper and rockier, as their packs and blankets 
got heavier and hotter, conversation died out. 
Everybody was panting. Rob, who was pacemaker 
for the morning, would plod away, and then set 
his pack down to rest. The others rested when he 
did, and no oftener. Climbing began to be me- 
chanical. Art consulted his watch and his pedometer. 

"That Appalachian guide book isn't far from 
right," he admitted to Mr. Rogers. "We aren't 
making much over a mile an hour." 

"That's enough, in this heat," the Scout Master 
replied. "Better fill canteens at the next spring, 


Rob,'* he called ahead. " I don't know whether 
we'll get any more water to Lafayette. I've forgot- 
ten this trail." 

At the next spring they all took a long drink and 
a long rest. Shortly after, they emerged above 
timber, and found themselves to the northwest of the 
peak of Liberty, and almost at its base, while ahead 
of them the path pointed up the rocky ledges toward 
Haystack. With full canteens to add to their load, 
they plodded on. 

Now they could see below them, far down into the 
Notch, and across the Notch they could see the 
steep side of Kinsman going up, and the peak where 
they had unfurled the flag on the Fourth of July. 
They began to realize for the first time, too, how 
difficult it could become in a cloud to keep the path, 
for where the trail led over bare rocks it was almost 
indistinguishable under foot, and you had to look 
ahead to find a pile of stones, or a place where it 
wound through the mountain cranberries or other 
Alpine plants, to find it. The sun was very hot on 
their backs, and all of them, under the blankets and 
knapsacks, were perspiring freely. 

" I'm wringing wet,'* said Peanut. " Wish we 
had the Pool right here. Would I go in ? Hm " 

But this lofty, bare space was also swept by a 
breeze, which curiously enough dried the perspira- 
tion on their faces, and when they paused to rest, 







taking off their packs, dried out their shirts so rap- 
idly that the evaporation made them cold. 

Once on top of Haystack, their way over the sum- 
mit of the ridge lay plain before them, the view 
opened out on both sides, and they dropped their 
burdens to have a long look. 

Straight ahead, the path dropped down to the 
col between Haystack and Lincoln — a col being the 
connecting spine, ridge, or saddle between two 
peaks. This col was certainly a spine, bare, wind- 
swept, narrow, nothing but an edge of gray tumbled 
rock. The mountain dropped down sharply on both 
sides, and the boys exclaimed, almost in a breath : 

" Gee, rd hate to cross that with the winter storms 
sweeping it I " 

" I'd hate to be anywhere above timber line, in a 
winter storm," said Mr. Rogers, *' unless I was dressed 
like Peary on his dash to the Pole, and the path was 

It was perhaps a mile across the col to Lincoln. 
" And beyond that another mile or more — up all 
the way— to Lafayette ! " the Scout Master cried. 
" Shall we make Lafayette before we lunch, or not? '* 

The Scouts all voted for it, and moved on again, 
across the col to Lincoln. The path lay entirely 
over stones, not great levels of ledge, but small, 
broken stones, making walking with anything but 
very stout boots on extremely trying to the feet. 


All the way, on their left, they could see down into 
the forests of the Notch, and they could look, too, 
down upon the Lonesome Lake plateau, and even 
upon the top of Kinsman, for they were higher than 
Kinsman already. On the other side, toward the 
east, they looked down into a spectacle of indescrib- 
able desolation — a wild region of deep ravines and 
valleys separated by steep mountains, and the entire 
region stripped to the bare earth by the lumbermen. 
On some of the steep hillsides, slides had followed, 
to complete the destruction. This desolation ex- 
tended as far eastward as they could see, and was 
evidently still going on, for off to the south they 
could see a logging railroad emerging from the 
former forest, and once they heard, very faint and far 
off, the toot of a locomotive whistle. 

'* When I was a boy your age, Rob," said Mr. 
Rogers, " all that country in there, which is known 
as the East Branch region, because the East Branch 
of the Pemigewassett rises in it, was primeval 
wilderness. There was a trail through from North 
Woodstock over Twin Mountain to the Twin Moun- 
tain House, with branches to Thoreau Lake and 
Carrigain. It was wonderful timber — hemlocks a 
hundred and fifty feet tall, great, straight, dark 
spruces like cathedral pillars I I tramped through it 
once — took three days as I remember. And look at 
it now ! " 


" Oh, why do they allow it ! " cried Rob. " Why, 
they haven't planted a single new tree, or let a single 
old one stand. They've just stripped it." 

" Yes, and spoiled the soil by letting the sun bake 
it out, too," said Lou. 

" We aren't such a progressive people, we Ameri- 
cans, as we sometimes think we are," the Scout 
Master replied. ** In Germany they'd have taken 
out only the big trees, and planted little ones, and 
when the next size was bigger, they'd have taken 
them out, and planted more little ones, and so on 
forever. And we Scouts could be hiking down 
there, beside a rushing little river, in the depths of a 
glorious forest." 

" Fm never going to read a Sunday paper again 
— 'cept the sporting page ! " Peanut answered. 

" Do you read any more of it now ? " Art asked. 

" It wasn't the Sunday papers which stripped that 
region," said Mr. Rogers. " It was a lumberman, 
who made boards and beams of the timber. What 
did he care about the future, so long as he got rich ? 
Still, I blame the state and the nation more than I 
blame him. He should never have been allowed to 
lumber that wasteful way — nobody should. Look, 
boys, there's a cloud on Washington again." 

The boys had almost forgotten Washington in 
their interest in the stripped forest below them. 
They looked now far off to the northeast, twenty- 


five miles away as the crow flies, and saw just 
the blue bases of the Presidentials, wearing a white 

'' Say, will that cloud come over here ? " asked 
Peanut. ** Kind o' lonesome up here, as it is." 

*' Ho, we've got a compass. We could always 
just go west, down to the Notch road," said Art. 

Peanut looked down into the Notch. ** Thanks," 
he said, " but if you don't mind I'd rather go by a 

" I guess we've nothing to fear from those clouds," 
said the Scout Master. " The wind is west. They're 
nothing but local." 

By this time they had reached the top of Lincoln, 
after a steady upward toil. Another col lay ahead 
of them — ^just a huge knife blade of jagged stone, 
with the path faintly discernible winding across it 
and stretching up the rocky slope of the final stone 
sugar loaf of Lafayette. 

** There's journey's end!" cried Mr. Rogers. 
** All aboard for the final dash to the Pole ! " 

They descended rapidly from Lincoln, and soon 
began the ascent again, across the rising slope of 
the col, and then up the cone of Lafayette itself. 

" I'm getting sort of empty," said Frank. " What 
time is it, Art ? " 

Art looked at his watch. *' No wonder I " he said. 
" It's one o'clock, and after — twenty minutes after. 


What interests me is, how are we going to cook any 
lunch up here on top?" 

'*We can't," Mr. Rogers said. "Of course, 
there's no wood. We'll just have to eat something 
cold, or else wait till we can get down to timber 

** Oh, dear I How long will that be ? " said Frank. 

" I should fancy we could make timber in half an 
hour from the top." 

"That would be two, even if we didn't stay on top 
any time, wouldn't it ? " 

" I gotter stay on top long enough to dry my 
shirt," Peanut answered. " It's sticking to me." 

" Then you'll have to eat emergency rations and 
sweet chocolate," said Art. " There's nothing else 
which doesn't have to be cooked." 

" Vv^e ought to bake some bread and have a bit of 
potted ham, or something like that, for noon lunches," 
said Rob. " I move we do it to-night." 

"To-night?" sniffed Peanut. "To-night, I guess 
you forget, we dine on roast beef and plum pudding, 
because Art and I are heroes ! " 

" I did forget, both facts," Rob laughed, 

" Well, which is it, emergency rations, or wait till 
we get down to timber? " asked the Scout Master. 

" Emergency rations ! " said Lou and Frank, 

"Wait!" said Art and Peanut (who had eaten 
emergency rations before). 


" It's up to you to cast the deciding vote,'' said 
Mr. Rogers to Rob. 

Rob winked at the Scout Master and said, " Well, 
if Art and Peanut are such heroes, a bit of nice, 
chewy pemmican won't hurt 'em. I vote to stay on 

''For two cents," said Peanut, "I'd punch you in 
the eye." 

As they neared the top of the peak, they suddenly 
heard voices, which sounded strange way up there, 
far above the world, where for hours they had heard 
nothing but the rushing of the wind. 

" Hello 1 " exclaimed Mr. Rogers, " there's a party 
here ahead of us." 

"I'll bet there are women in it, too," cried Peanut. 
" And I wanted to dry my shirt ! " 

" Hm," said Art. " Seem to be times when even 
you don't want women around." 

There were, however, no women in the party. As 
the Scouts crested the final broken fragment of rock, 
they found themselves on a summit no larger than a 
city back yard, and on that summit an old founda- 
tion hole, where once a small summit house had 
stood. Down in this hole, sheltered from the wind, 
were three men. Like the Scouts, they wore khaki. 
They, too, had packs and blankets, and they all 
needed shaves. They were eating their lunch as the 
boys suddenly appeared just above them. 


*' Hello I " they called up. ** Where did you come 

" Up from the Flume,'* said the boys. 

"Took the wrong way," said the men. ''That's 
the way to go down. You got the long trail up." 

" We like hard work," Peanut retorted. " Excuse 
me while I dry my shirt." 

He took ofT his pack and blanket, and then peeled 
himself of his outer and undershirt, spread them on 
a rock in the wind and sun — and began to shiver. 

"Wowl How this wind evaporates you!" he 

" Get down out of it," commanded the Scout Mas- 
ter, "and keep moving. You'll get cold if you don't." 

Peanut jumped into the foundation hole, out of 
the wind, and swung his arms like a coachman in win- 
ter. Art took off his shirts, too, and did the same 
thing. The rest decided to wait till they made camp 
at the base. 

"And now for the emergency rations," cried Rob, 
undoing his pack. 

(" Look at those guys — sandwiches ! Oh, dear, 
wish you had a gun to hold 'em up. Art ! " whispered 

(" I'd like to," the other whispered back. " * Your 
sandwiches or your life ! ' eh ? ") 

Rob, meanwhile, had produced a small blue tin, 
and was opening it. The three strangers looked on 


with an amused curiosity. Rob sniffed the contents, 
assured himself that it was fresh, and with his knife 
blade dug out a chunk for each member of the 

" Gee, is that all 1 get for lunch ? " said Frank, 
contemplating the piece in his hand, no bigger than 
an English walnut. 

** It'll be all you'll want, believe me," said Peanut. 

" And all you need to stop your hunger and nour- 
ish you till night," Rob added. " That's condensed 

Peanut took his piece over to the three men. " I'll 
swap this excellent and nourishing morsel for a ham 
sandwich," he said. 

The men laughed. *' You will not ! " one of them 
answered, hastily stuffing the last of his sandwich 
into his mouth. *' I've tried that before, myself. If 
you've got a little water to soften it up in, and a bit 
of bread to put it on, it's not so bad, at that." 

One of the other men passed over a sandwich — 
but not to Peanut. He gave it to Rob. ** Divide 
the bread," he said. " It'll make your rations go 

Each boy, then, got a third of a slice of bread, and 
a tiny morsel of ham. On this they put their chunk 
of emergency rations, softened with the last of the 
water from the canteens, and began to eat. Nobody 
seemed to be enjoying the food very much, but 


their expressions grew less pained the longer they 

" Beats all how long you can chew this before it 
disappears," said Lou. ** Gets sweeter, too." 

" Maybe that's the bread. Bread almost turns to 
sugar if you chew and chew it without swallowing," 
said Rob. *' But this pemmican stuff certainly is 

"What's it made of ? " Lou asked. 

" Rats and rubber boots," said Peanut. 

Mr. Rogers laughed. " Not exactly — put on your 
shirt, Peanut," he said. ** Pemmican was originally 
made of dried venison, pounded up with fat and ber- 
ries. Now it's made of dried beef pounded up with 
dried fruits and fats, and packed into a jelly cake to 
harden. That's about what this is, I fancy. It's 
very nourishing." 

" All right, but where's the sweet chocolate ? " 
Peanut demanded. 

Rob passed out the chocolate for dessert, and after 
it was eaten, everybody began to complain of being 
thirsty. The canteens were empty. 

" There's a spring just below the summit," said one 
of the three strangers. 

"You mean there was^^ laughed a second. "You 
drank it all dry on the way up." 

" Let's get there on the way down before he does," 
cried Peanut. 


" No fear," the first speaker laughed, ** we are go- 
ing down over the ridge, the way you just came up. 
We're doing Moosilauke to-morrow." 

** By the Beaver Brook Trail ? " the boys asked. 

** Yes. Have you been over it ? How is it ? " 

" It ain't," said Peanut. " It was, but it ain't." 

" What do you mean ? " 

"He means it's eroded into pretty steep drops in 
places," Rob put in. ** We thought when we came 
down that it would be an awful pull up." 

** There's a good logging road across the brook, 
though," one of the men said. ** If you'd taken that 
instead of the trail you'd have had no trouble. I was 
over it last year." 

" I'm glad we didn't," Art said — " at least as long 
as we were coming down." 

Both parties now packed up their loads, took a 
last good look at the view, with Washington still 
under the clouds, and said good-bye, the three 
strangers going ofi down the ridge, the Scouts turn- 
ing northwest, and winding down the summit cone, 
over the rough, broken stones of the path. At the 
base of the cone, they found the spring, a small, 
shallow basin in the stones, so shallow that the water 
had to be dipped gingerly to keep from stirring up 
the bottom. By the time the last boy had drunk his 
fill, in fact, there wasn't enough water left to dip. 
Then the path turned due west, and descended at a 


more gradual angle, still over small, flat, sharp frag- 
ments of stone, toward a little pond in a hollow of 
the mountain's shoulder, just below the line where 
the dwarf trees stopped entirely. 

They were soon on a level with this lake, which is 
called E^gle Lake, but the path was two or three 
hundred feet south of it, and to get in to it meant 
fighting through tough dwarf spruce and other ver- 
dure, only waist high, but as good as a wire fence. 
They stuck to the trail, which led through this dwarf 
vegetation almost on a level for some distance, then 
actually began to go up-hill again, on to the west 
shoulder of the mountain. 

*' Oh, rats I " cried Peanut. " Fvegone up enough 
to-day I " 

" Heroes shouldn't be tired," said Frank. 

" Heroes need sleep, just the same," Peanut re- 

The ascentp however, was not for long. Soon they 
swung northwest again, entered timber at last, and 
began to descend rapidly. After a mile or so on this 
tack, the timber growing ever taller, they brought up 
against the end of Eagle Cliff, which rose straight up 
in front of them. Here the path swung west again, 
and began its final plunge to the Profile House. It 
was a good, generous path through the woods. In 
years gone by it used to be a bridle path, for people 
ascended Lafayette on horseback. 


'' Vd hate to be the horse, though," Peanut said, 
as he put his pole ahead of him, and cleared six feet 
at a jump. 

It was, indeed, a steep path, and they came down 
it at a high rate of speed. 

" Gee, we go up about a mile an hour, and we 
come down about six 1 " Art exclaimed, catching a 
tree beside the path to stop himself. 

They began to have glimpses of the Profile House 
between the trees. The trail suddenly slid out nearly 
level in front of them ; other paths appeared, cross- 
ing theirs ; and before they realized where they were, 
they stood in the clearing, by the railroad station, 
and just beyond them was the huge Profile House 
and the colony of cottages. 

Peanut and Art sprang ahead. " Whoa ! " cried 
Mr. Rogers. " Suppose we leave our packs and 
stuff in the depot, and prospect light-footed, eh ?" 

The baggage master at the depot recognized Art 
and Peanut. He had been one of the pursuing party 
the night before. He stowed their things in his bag- 
gage room. " Guess you can have the freedom of 
the city I " he said. "Wouldn't wonder, if you went 
to the hotel, they'd give ye something cold." 

" Come on ! " cried Peanut. 

" No," said Art, ** I ain't so thirsty I have to be 
treated. I don't think we want to do that, do you, 
Mr. Rogers?" 


'* What do you think — on second thought, Pea- 
nut ? " asked the Scout Master. 

" Well, we're taking a dinner from Mr. Goodwin, 
ain't we ? " 

" Yes," said Art, " but that's different. We helped 
save his silver and stuff. And it's just in his familyc 
Up there at the hotel, there'd be a crowd around — 
women, and things. Looks kind of as if we were 
trying to get into the lime-light." 

** Guess you're right," Peanut replied. " Come 
on, then, and show us the Old Man of the Mountain, 
Mr. Rogers. But ain't there a place where we can 
buy a drink ? " 

" We'll find one — after we've seen the face," the 
Scout Master laughed. He looked at his watch. 
*' After four, boys," he added. ** We've got to get a 
camp ready, and spruce up before dinner, and I've 
got to go to the hotel and get a shave." 

They stepped up from the railroad station to the 
road. Directly before them was the Profile House, 
a large wooden hotel, facing south. Behind it rose 
the steep wall of Cannon Mountain, and south of it, 
on the lowest terrace of the slope, was a double row 
of cottages, ending, on a bend, with a group includ- 
ing Mr. Goodwin's. Behind the boys, back where 
they had come, they could see the first steep, wooded 
slope of Lafayette, and to the north the great rocky 
precipice of Eagle ClifT. Looking south again, the 


road disappeared between the landslides of Lafayette 
on the one hand, and the wall of Cannon on the 
other, a narrow notch, not much wider than the road 
itself. The opening where the boys stood was only 
large enough to hold the hotel and cottages, and 
three or four tennis courts, on which a crowd was 

The party went south down the road, Peanut and 
Art pointing out Mr. Goodwin's house, and the 
track taken by the burglars, and quickly left the 
houses behind. After a quarter of a mile or so, the 
woods opened out ahead, and presently the boys 
stood in a place where the road was enlarged to the 
left into a semicircle, and in that semicircle a team 
or a motor could stop for the view. 

" It's the place ! " cried Peanut ** Here's where 
they left the car ! And those are the bushes we 
crawled into, Art I " 

" And there's the Old Man of the Mountain," said 
Mr. Rogers. 

The Scouts followed his finger. Looking through 
an opening in the trees across the road, toward the 
southwest, they saw first a beautiful little lake, so 
still that it mirrored every reflection, and then, ris- 
ing directly out of the woods beyond this lake a 
huge cliff, curved at first, but gradually attaining 
the perpendicular till it shot up like the side of a 
house, fifteen hundred feet into the air. At the very 


top of it, looking southward down the valley, was, 
indeed, the Old Man of the Mountain — a huge knob 
of rock thrust forth from the pinnacle of the preci- 
pice, and shaped precisely like a human profile, with 
sunken eye under a brow like Daniel Webster's, 
sharp nose, firm mouth, and, as Mr. Rogers said, 
*' quite literally a granite chin.*' 

The boys looked at it in silence for a moment, and 
then Peanut said, " But it looks so much bigger in 
all the pictures in the geographies. Why, it really 
looks as small up there as — as the moon.*' 

** That's because the photographs of it are taken 
with a telescope lens, I guess," said Frank. "My 
camera would make it look about six miles ofl." 

" How big is it? " asked Lou. 

" They say about eighty feet from forehead to 
chin,*' the Scout Master replied. "And it's about 
fifteen hundred feet up the cliff." 

" I'd like to see it in full face," Lou added. " Could 
we walk down the road and see it that way ? " 

"We've not time, I'm afraid/' Mr. Rogers replied. 
" We'd have to walk a mile or more. It isn't so 
impressive full face. In fact, this is the only spot 
where the human likeness is perfect. At many 
points along the road the full face view shows only 
a mass of rocks." 

Lou was still looking at the great stone face gaz- 
ing solemnly down over the valley. 


** Ifs like the Sphinx, somehow/* he said. " Fve 
always thought of the Sphinx looking forever out 
over the desert, and this old man of the mountain 
looks just the same way forever down the Notch. It 
gives me a funny feeling — I can't explain it. But 
somehow it seems as if he ought to be very wise." 

Peanut laughed, but Mr. Rogers didn't laugh. 

** Lou has just the right feeling about it," he said. 
" Lou has just the feeling they say the Indians had. 
To the Indians, the Great Stone Face was an object 
of veneration. Did any of you ever read Haw- 
thorne's story, * The Great Stone Face ' ? " 

None of the boys ever had. 

"Well, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves," 
said the Scout Master. ** I'm going to see if Mr. 
Goodwin has the book, and read it to you. How 
would you like to take to-morrow off, and climb up 
to his forehead, and read the story there, and then 
go over to the Crawford House by train, instead of 
hiking the twenty-five miles over, on a motor road 
full of dust?" 

" Hooray I Me for that ! " cried Peanut. 

" Me, too ! " cried the rest of the Scouts. 

*' Well, we'll do it, if I can borrow the book," said 
Mr. Rogers. " Now, back to make a camp ! " 

At the depot the boys shouldered their packs 
again, and Mr. Rogers directed them to go north 
up the road till they came to Echo Lake. 


** Leave your packs at the little store, ' he said, 
" and go down to the boat house and get the man to 
take you out in a launch. I'll get a shave and meet 
you there." 

The Scouts set off up the road, and the Scout 
Master went into the hotel. When he had been 
shaved, he followed up the road, and as he drew 
near Echo Lake, a beautiful little pond at the foot of 
a great cliff just north of Eagle Clifi, he heard the 
long-drawn note of a bugle floating out over the 
water, and echoing back from the clifl. He called 
the boys in from the landing. 

'' Oh, that's lovely 1 " Lou exclaimed. " The 
sound just seems to float back, as if somebody was 
up on top of the clifl with another bugle, answering 
you I " 

They paid the boatman and went back to the 
little store, where the boys had already consumed 
two sodas apiece, and Peanut had bought two 
pounds of candy. From there they went still farther 
north up the road, and suddenly plunged down 
a path to the left, into a ravine, with a brook at 
the bottom, and in among a grove of gigantic hem- 

" There are real trees ! " said Mn Rogers. " They 
are relics of the forest primeval. ' This is the forest 
primeval, the murmuring pines and the hemlocks ' 
—and so forth.** 


" Only there's no * deep-mouthed neighboring 
ocean/ '* Rob laughed. 

" There's a brook," said Lou. 

The hemlocks were indeed giants. They were 
three or four feet thick, and rose sixty or eighty feet 
without a limb, their tops going on up fifty feet 

In among these superb trees, the boys made camp, 
selecting a spot some way from the path, and hid- 
den by underbrush. They all took a bath in the 
cold brook, put on their one change of clean clothes, 
washing out their socks and underclothes and hang- 
ing them on twigs around the camp to dry. Then 
they carefully combed their hair, dusted their boots, 
and tied each others' neckties neatly. (Peanut's tie 
was badly crumpled, for it had been in his pocket all 

It was dark in the woods before they were ready, 
and it suddenly occurred to them that they'd have 
trouble finding the camp again, later in the evening. 

** We might leave the lantern burning — if it would 
last," said Lou. 

" No, some one would see it, going by on the path," 
Art replied. " We don't want to risk having our 
stuff pinched." 

" I know — tie a white handkerchief to a bush by 
the path where we turn off to camp, and then count 
the number of steps back to the road," said Frank. 


"Almost human intelligence," Rob laughed 
** And take the lantern with us, to find the handker- 
chief with." 

" Right-o I " said Peanut. 

It was time now to start for the dinner party. 
They tied the handkerchief to the bushes by the 
path, and everybody counted his own steps out to 
the road, in case the mark should be lost, or taken 
down by some passer-by. Then they moved up the 
road, past the gaily lighted Profile House, where 
they could see the guests eating in the big dining- 
room with its large plate glass windows, and again 
rang the bell of Mr. Goodwin's house — but more 
quietly this time. 

A servant ushered them in, and Mr. Goodwin and 
his wife and son and daughter at once came forward 
to greet them. The house was elaborately furnished 
for a summer " cottage," and the boys were rather 
conscious of their scout clothes and especially of their 
hobnail boots. 

" Gee," whispered Art, " keep on the rugs all you 
can, or we'll dig holes in these hardwood floors." 

'* So these are Peanut and Art," said Mr. Good- 
win, after introductions all around, turning to the 
pair who had given the alarm the night before. 
** Vm sorry to say, we can't have dinner till the 
sheriff has disposed of you two chaps. He's waiting 
in the library now with a stenographer." 


Mr. Goodwin led the way into his library, where, 
sure enough, the sheriff was sitting. 

** Here are your men," said the host. " Don't 
keep 'em too long. We're all hungry." 

The rest of the party sat near by and listened, while 
the sheriff swore in Art and Peanut. First they had 
to hold up their right hands and swear to tell the 
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 
Then they gave their names, ages and residence, 
while the stenographer's pencil was busy making 
shorthand marks which Peanut, regarding out of the 
corner of his eye, thought looked more like hen tracks 
than anything else. 

'* Now, tell me exactly what happened last night, 
from the beginning," said the sheriff. *' I don't want 
to ask you to come way up here from Massachusetts 
for the trial, so I'm taking this sworn testimony now. 
I think w^e have evidence enough to make your 
actual presence unnecessary." 

Peanut started in on the story, told of his being 
awakened by the sound of the motor stopping in 
the road, of waking Art, of their sneaking out 
through the bushes, and hearing the two burglars 

** What did they say, as exactly as you can remem- 
ber it ? " asked the sheriff. 

Peanut turned red, and glanced toward Mrs. 
Goodwin and her daughter. ** Have I got to tell 


exactly ? '* he stammered. " We ain't allowed to 
talk that way in the Scouts, even without ladies 

Everybody laughed, and the officer with them. 

" You can put in blanks," he answered. 

Peanut, with Art's help, and also Rob's, who came 
upon the scene at this point, as the reader will re- 
member, and also with the aid of many " blanks,'* 
reconstructed the conversation as well as he could. 
Then Art took up the narrative, and described the 
ride up the valley, the cutting of the tires, the pull- 
ing out of the wire in the engine (which the burglars 
had put back again), and the subsequent arousing of 
the neighborhood. 

" Well, that's some story ! " said the sheriff, with 
admiration. " That's what I call quick action, and 
brave action. One thing you didn't do you might 
have — you might have cut out a piece of that wire 
so they couldn't have put it back. But if you had, 
they wouldn't have tried to get away in the car, but 
would have taken to the mountain, and perhaps 
escaped, so it's just as well." 

He shook hands heartily with Art and Peanut, 
and then with the rest of the boys, and departed. 

" Now for dinner ! " cried Mr. Goodwin. 

Mrs. Goodwin led the way to the dining-room, 
while her husband explained to the boys as they 
went along that all the wedding presents had been 


shipped back to a New York vault, under guard, 
that day, to avoid the chance of another scare. 

They took their places at the big table, which was 
gay with candles. Art and Peanut having places of 
honor beside Mrs. Goodwin and her daughter. 
There were great, snowy napkins to spread on their 
laps, and there was iced grape fruit to begin on, and 
soup, and roast beef, and all sorts of good things, 
ending up with ice-cream. As it was after seven 
thirty before they sat down, and the boys had eaten 
nothing but emergency rations at noon, you may be 
sure that nobody refused a second helping of any- 
thing, just to be polite. In fact, Mrs. Goodwin saw 
to it that everything came around twice. 

" My, nobody has eaten like this in my house for 
a long time!" she said, ''and a housekeeper does 
like to see her food enjoyed. John " — this to her 
husband — " why don't you climb Lafayette every 
day, so you can get up a real appetite ? " 

•'I wouldn't, alas!" he laughed. ''Vd just get 
lame legs and a headache. Lafayette's for the 
young folks. Have some more ice-cream, Pea- 

" Gee, rd like to— but I'm full," said Peanut, so 
honestly that everybody roared. 

" I don't suppose you carry an ice-cream freezer 
in your packs, do you? " Mrs. Goodwin laughed. 

" We don't," said Rob, ** nor grape fruit nor nap- 


kins, either. I'm afraid this luxury will spoil us for 
camp to-morrow I " 

" Do you know," Mr. Goodwin said, " I'm tired of 
luxury, myself. If I was twenty years younger, I'd 
get a blanket out and go with you boys for the next 
few days, and eat bacon and flapjacks out of tin 
plates, and have the time of my life." 

** Come on 1 " the Scouts cried. 

And Peanut added, *' You ain't old. Why, 
Edward Payson Weston's lots older than you 
are ! " 

" And he walked from San Francisco to New York 
didn't he? " Mr. Goodwin laughed. " Well, I guess 
his legs are younger than mine. Where do you go 
to-morrow, by the way ? " 

This reminded Mr. Rogers of the book, so he 
asked if he could lend him a copy of Hawthorne's 
"Twice Told Tales." 

** If you can," he said, " we are going up Cannon 
to-morrow morning and read * The Great Stone 
Face,' and then go over to the Crawford House 
on the train, to be ready for the Bridle Path the 
next day." 

** Have we got it — the book? " Mr. Goodwin asked 
his wife. 

She shook her head, but the daughter spoke — 
"The Andersons have a copy, I know. I'll run 
over and get it after dinner," 


"Fine — and as to that train — nothing doing," 
said Mr. Goodwin. " You'll all get in my touring 
car after lunch, and the driver' 11 take you over to 
Crawford's, and show you some sights on the way. 
I'll tell him to take you through Bethlehem first. 
Now, don't say no ! I want to do that much for 

The Scouts thanked him, and agreed to be ready 
at two o'clock, on the next day, for the start. They 
rose from dinner now, and strolled out-of-doors. 
There was music at the Profile House. 

The entire party loitered along the board walk in 
front of the cottages, with the great, dark wall of 
Lafayette going up against the stars directly across 
the road, and sat on the Profile House veranda a 
while, listening to the music within. Dancers came 
out and walked back and forth in front of them be- 
tween dances — men in evening clothes, girls in low- 
necked white dresses. It was very gay. But how 
sleepy the Scouts were becoming ! Mr. Rogers saw 
it, and whispered to their hostess. They walked 
back to the house, got the book, said good-night, 
and once more tramped down the road. 

" Gee, it's ten o'clock," said Art. " Awful dissi- 
pated, we are." 

Peanut yawned. " Bet I'll hate to get up to- 
morrow. Wow, some class to that dinner, though I 
Ain't you glad we were heroes, boys ? " 


Lou was lighting his lantern. " I'm glad you 
picked out Mr. Goodwin to warn," he laughed. 

They were alongside of Echo Lake now. '* If I 
wasn't so sleepy, I'd like to go down there and make 
an echo now, in the night," said Lou. " It would be 
kind of wild and unearthly." 

" Yes, and easy to do, seeing' s we have no bugle 
and no boat," said Frank. ** Me for bed." 

They now turned in from the road, and followed 
the path, each one counting his steps. But, as the 
path was down-hill, and they had counted first when 
going up-hill, everybody was still many paces shy 
when Lou, who was leading with the lantern, sud- 
denly spied the handkerchief, still tied to a bush. 
They turned into the underbrush, and after consid- 
erable stumbling in the dark, amid the undergrowth 
and the gigantic hemlock trunks, the lantern light 
fell on a shimmer of white — one of the shirts hung 
up to dry — and they found their camp. It wasn't 
five minutes later when the camp was once more 
dark and silent 


On the Forehead of the Old Man of the 

THE camp next morning was still asleep at day- 
break, and for the first time, almost, in the 
history of the Southmead Scouts Art was not the 
first to wake. He and Peanut were both asleep 
when the rest sat up and rubbed their eyes, and it 
was not till Rob rattled a pan and Lou began to 
chop wood that the two boys aroused. 

" Because you're heroes is no reason you should be 
lazy,'* Rob laughed. 

Peanut propped himself up on his elbow, and re- 
garded the scene. The sun had not yet risen high 
enough to look in over the northern shoulders of 
Lafayette, and it was still dim among the great hem- 
locks. Some forest birds were singing sweetly, a 
hermit thrush far off sounding like a fairy clarion. 
The brook could be heard running close by. The 
woods smelled fresh and fragrant. 

" I don't believe Til get up at all," Peanut an- 
nounced. " Rather like it here. Gee, but I slept 
hard last night ! Bet I made a dent in the ground." 



'' Won't get up at all, eh?" Rob remarked, setting 
down the coffee-pot. " We need more wood. Out 
with you 1 " 

He took hold of Peanut's blanket, and rolled the 
occupant out upon the bare ground. 

Peanut picked himself up sleepily, and hunted his 
tooth-brush out of his pack. " Oh, very well ! " he 
said, starting down to the brook for his morning 
wash. " Only it would be nice one day just to lie 
around in camp, and do nothing." 

** We'll do just that, when we get to the Great Gulf, 
or Tuckerman's Ravine, perhaps," said Mr. Rogers. 
" But not to-day. Besides, we're going to get a 
motor ride this afternoon." 

It was after seven o'clock before camp was struck. 
They left everything packed and ready to put aboard 
the motor after lunch, and armed only with a small 
package of raisins apiece, which Mr. Rogers had 
mysteriously produced from his pack, and the last of 
the sweet chocolate, and with their staffs and can- 
teens, and the book, they set off. 

•* Seems good to be going light," somebody re- 

" It does that," said Art. " Let's whoop it up this 
morning. By the way, we haven't cut our mileage 
for two days." 

" We can do it at lunch," said Peanut. " Won't 
take us long to eat what we've got. That's a lead 


pipe. Say, Mr. Rogers, did you have those raisins 
yesterday ? " 

"You'll never know I" the Scout Master laughed. 

The path up Cannon Mountain (which, by the way, 
is called Cannon Mountain because a rock on what 
looks like the summit from the Profile House re- 
sembles a cannon) started in near the hotel, and lost 
no time about ascending. It began to go up with 
the first step, in fact, through an evergreen forest, 
and it never stopped going up till it emerged from 
the evergreens upon bare rock, two miles away, di- 
rectly across the Notch from the point on Lafayette 
where the path reaches the end of Eagle Clifl. 

" Looks as if you could almost throw a stone 
across," said Peanut. 

The boys now saw that the real summit of Cannon 
was a mile away to the west, and instead of looking 
down, as they had expected to do, upon the top of 
Bridal Veil falls on the west side, where their real 
mountain trip had begun, they were a long distance 
from the falls. The Old Man lay to the south of 
them, and it was toward him they made their way, 
standing presently on top of the precipice above his 
massive forehead, and looking southward through 
the Notch. What a view it was! The ground be- 
low their feet fell sheer away out of sight, fifteen 
hundred feet to the valley below. To the right was 
the great wall of Kinsman, to the left the bare 


scarred ridges of Lafayette, Lincoln, Haystack and 
Liberty, along which they had plodded the day be- 
fore. In the green Notch between they could see 
the white road and the little Pemigewassett River 
flashing through the trees, on their way to the Flume 
House, and far off, where the Notch opened out into 
the sunny distances, the town of North Woodstock. 
Beyond the opening, the boys could see the far blue 
mountains to the south. 

" That's what the Old Man of the Mountain is for- 
ever looking at, boys," said Mr. Rogers. '* Not a 
bad view, eh ? '* 

** It's wonderful ! " said Lou. 

The Scouts now lay down on the rocks, and Mr. 
Rogers opened the book to the story of ** The Great 
Stone Face.*' 

" This story," he began, " was written in Berkshire 
County, pretty close to our home— in Lenox, in a 
little red house at the head of Stockbridge Bowl, in 
the summer of 185 1, when Hawthorne was living 
there. It isn't exactly about this particular Old Man 
of the Mountain, as you will see from the descrip- 
tion. It's really about a sort of ideal great stone 
face. But of course it was suggested to Hawthorne 
by this one." 

Then he read the story aloud. I wish all my 
readers, before they go any further, in this book, 
would get Hawthorne's "Twice Told Tales," and 


read it, too, right now. If you've read it before, 
tead it again. And try to imagine, as you read it, 
that Rob and Lou and Frank and Art and Peanut 
were listening to it, not in school, not in a house, 
but sitting fifteen hundred feet above the Notch, al- 
most on the forehead of the Great Stone Face itself, 
and looking off at exactly the same view he looks 
at, fifty miles into the blue distance. 

When Mr. Rogers had finished the story, none 
of the boys spoke for a minute. Then Peanut 
said, his brows contracted, " I'm not sure I quite 
get it." 

Lou was gazing off thoughtfully down the valley. 

** I think it means that Ernest was the man who 
fulfilled the prophecy and grew to look like the 
Great Stone Face because he didn't try to become 
rich, or a great fighter, or a politician, or even a poet 
looking for fame, but just tried to live as good a life 
as he could. He was a kind of still man, and it 
makes you want to be still and just sit and think, to 
look out over the world the way the Great Stone 
Face does." 

Mr. Rogers nodded his head in approval. 
"You've got the idea, Lou," he said. ** I want all 
of you to get something of it, too. There is a lot to 
be learned from mountains as well as fun to be had 
climbing them. I don't believe any of you realized 
that to-day is Sunday, did you ? " 


"Gee, I hadn't I" cried Peanut " Tramping this 
way, you lose track of time." 

" Neither had I," said the rest. 

" Well, it is," Mr. Rogers laughed. " And this is 
our way of going to church. You remember what 
the Bible says about the mountains ? * I will lift up 
mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my 
help. My help cometh even from the Lord.' You 
see, long, long ago, men felt about the mountains as 
we do now — that there was something big and 
eternal about them ; and just as the Pemigewassett 
Indians thought that the Great Spirit lived on 
Moosilauke, and perhaps worshipped the Great Stone 
Face here, so the men in Bible days thought of the 
hills as the symbol of God's dwelling place. Then 
later, in our own time, we find Ernest in the story 
refusing to judge men by worldly standards, but 
judging them by whether they resemble the Great 
Stone Face — that is, judging them by whether they 
were calm, and sweet, and good, like the mountains, 
and the forests, and the still places. 

" As Lou says, Ernest was a still man — that is, he 
wasn't bustling around making war or making 
money. When you come to think about it, the still 
men are the greatest. The greatest man who ever 
lived was Jesus Christ and He changed all history 
by the Sermon on the Mount ; not by making wars 
like Napoleon, but by new ideas which He had 


thought out, and by teaching love of your fellov^ 
men. Darwin, experimenting with plants and fishes 
and animals and bugs, reached the theory of evolu- 
tion, which made the nineteenth century so wonder- 
ful. He was a still man. He didn^t fight nor make 
money nor shout at the crowds, yet he altered the 
whole conception of science and religion and human 
thought. Ernest in the story just stayed down there 
in his own valley, under the shadow of the moun- 
tain, and did his daily work quietly, and loved his 
neighbors, and preached wise words to them, and 
made his corner of the world a little better and hap- 
pier — and suddenly it was he who resembled the 
Great Stone Face, 

" Look out, boys, over the Notch, and see what 
the Old Man sees. Doesn't it make all our little 
human rows and fights and ambitions seem small 
and petty ? The Old Man will still be looking when 
you and I are dead and forgotten. While we are 
here, however, let's try to be a bit like him, worthy 
of this view, and not talk too much unless we have 
something to say, and be charitable with all our 
neighbors, and just try to remember that no matter 
if lessons in school don't go right, or we are licked 
in baseball, Lafayette and Cannon and Kinsman are 
still here, the Old Man is still looking down the val- 
ley. Let's lift up our eyes unto the hills, and get 
strength. Next winter, if you feel like being cross 


to your mother some morning, or doing a mean 
thing to somebody who's done a mean thing to you, 
just remember this view, just say to yourself, * The 
Great Stone Face is looking calmly down the 
valley, and expects me to be calm, too, and gen- 
erous, and kind, because those things are what 
really make men great/ Will you try to remember, 
boys ? " 

** Sure ! " cried Peanut, 

** I can never forget this view," said Lou. 

" Whenever I get sore or cross, I always go out in 
the woods,*' said Art 

" Say,'* Peanut added, ** I like to go to church this 
way ! '^ 

The rest laughed, and " church " was over for the 
morning. The boys now munched their raisins, and 
cut their last two days' mileage on their staffs. From 
the camp on Moosilauke to Lost River was four 
miles, through the river one, back to the store for 
the packs, two more, to North Woodstock five, and 
up to the camp by the Flume House six. That made 
eighteen miles, and Art and Peanut added another 
mile on their staffs for their walking during the pur- 
suit of the burglars. The mileage for the next day, 
according to Art's pedometer, showed nine miles from 
camp to the Pool and then to the top of Lafayette, 
and five miles down the mountain and to the base 
camp. Then there were two more miles of walking 


about to Mr. Goodwin's house, Echo Lake, the 
Profile, and so on — a total of sixteen. 

The boys washed down their frugal meal of raisins 
and chocolate with all the water from the canteens 
(" Gee," said Frank, ** it beats all how much you 
drink on mountains. I suppose it's due to the rapid 
evaporation.") and shortly before one began the 
descent. It was made in quick time. With no packs 
to bother them, the Scouts could vault on their poles, 
and they came down the two miles in seventeen min- 
utes. They were hot and panting at the base, and 
surprised at their own record. 

** Takes you in the front of your legs, and in be- 
hind your knees," said Frank. " I suppose that's 
because we don't develop those holding-in muscles 
on the level." 

** Well, we'll develop 'em before we get home, I 
guess," said Peanut, rubbing his shins. 

They now went to the Goodwins' house to pay 
their party call, and say good-bye, and then returned 
to camp to wait for the motor. They had all their 
stuff out beside the road when the car, a big, seven 
passenger touring car, came along, and in they piled. 
They drew lots for the front seat, and Peanut won. 
The other five got into the tonneau, and with a 
shout, the car started up — or rather down the road, 
for they were on the top of a bill. 

The Crawford Notch 

THE road kept on going down, too, through the 
woods. The driver told them that this was 
Three Mile Hill, and nobody disputed him. It was 
certainly three miles. All the cars they met coming 
up were on the lowest speed, and chugging hard. 
At the bottom, they came into the little village of 
Franconia, and behind them they could see the 
mountains they had been climbing, piled up against 
the sky. 

" How about grub ? " Art suddenly exclaimed. 
"We've got to stock up before we start to-morrow. 
In fact, we haven't enough for supper to-night — and 
it's Sunday." 

Nobody had thought of that, but Mr. Goodwin's 
chauffeur was equal to the emergency. He drove to 
the storekeeper's house, who opened the store, and 
sold them what they needed. 

"Suppose Fm breaking the law," he said, "but / 
shouldn't want to see you fellers go hungry ! " 

Then they got in the car again, turned eastward. 
climbed a hill past the Forest HiJl Hotel, and sput/ 



along the Gale River road toward Bethlehem, a 
pretty road through the woods, beside the rushing 
Gale River. After a few miles, the road climbed a 
long hill, away from the river, and suddenly, at the 
top of the hill, they looked out across the valley to 
the whole panorama of the White Mountains. To 
the right, a little behind them, rose Cannon and 
Lafayette. Directly south was the sharp cone of 
Garfield, then the two tall Twins, then, still far to the 
east, but nearer than they had yet seen them, the 
blue Presidentials, with Washington clear of cloud, 
and the Summit House showing. 

" Some sight ! " exclaimed Peanut. 

They now came speedily into Bethlehem, a town 
high upon a hill, with many hotels and many stores 
and summer houses, along a single street, a street a 
mile long, with golf links at one side of the road, 
and many people in gay summer clothes walking up 
and down. The chauffeur drove the length of the 
street and back (stopping, at Peanut's demand, to 
get sodas at a drug store) and then turned the car 
eastward once more, toward Mount Washington. 

The going was good, and the driver " let in the 
juice,*' as Peanut expressed it. They rushed along 
at thirty miles an hour, with Mount Washington get- 
ting closer every moment. 

The Scouts took off their hats, and the warm wind 
blew tivrougfh their l^air. 


" Pretty fast walking we're doing to-day I " cried 

In less than an hour, in fact, they had swung with 
the bend of the rushing Ammonoosuc River into a 
considerable level plain, and found themselves in the 
midst of a settlement. There were two or three rail- 
road tracks, cottages, a small hotel, then a big hotel 
— the Fabyan House, and a junction railroad station, 
and then, still closer to the great wall of the Presi- 
dential range, which now loomed up directly in front 
of them, the Mount Pleasant House, and half a mile 
to the left, across a beautiful green golf course, the 
huge bulk of the Mount Washington Hotel. 

" Golly, that hotel is as big as Mount Washington 
itself," said Art. 

The chauffeur laughed. " Yes, and the prices are 
as high," he said. 

They now passed along the road, between the two 
hotels, headed south, and then began to go up-hill, 
leaving the Presidential range more and more on 
their left. Soon they lost sight of Washington, with 
the curving line of the railroad up its flank. After 
two miles, they lost sight of all the range. On their 
left was only a high, wooded slope. On their right 
was the same. In front of them a white hotel and 
railroad station suddenly appeared, and in front of 
that was only a narrow defile between the \wo hills, 
just big enouQ^H to let the road and railway through. 


" The Crawford House ! *' said Mr. Rogers. " And 
ahead is the gateway to the Crawford Notch. All 

They got out of the motor beside the hotel, and 
thanked the chauffeur for their trip. They had come 
twenty-seven miles farther on their way since two 
o'clock, and it was not yet four ! 

" Now,'* said Mr. Rogers, when the car had turned 
back home, " the Crawford Bridle Path starts right 
here in these woods across from the hotel. That's 
it, there. I move we tote our stuff up it far enough 
to make camp, and then take a walk down into the 

" Second the motion," said Frank. 

Picking up their burdens, the boys walked a quar- 
ter of a mile eastward, by a beaten path that ascended 
at a comfortable angle, not far from a brook. Pres- 
ently they found a pool in the brook, hid their stuff 
in the bushes fifty feet from the path, and hurried 
back to the Crawford House. 

Just below the hotel and the railroad station was a 
small pond. 

" That pond," the Scout Master said, " is the head 
waters of the Saco River. We are on a divide. 
Behind the hotel, the springs flow north into the 
Ammonoosuc, and thence into the Connecticut. 
They empty, finally, you see, into Long Island 
Sound. The water of this lake empties into the 


Atlantic north of Portland, Maine. Yet they start 
within two hundred yards of each other." 

Just south of the Httle pond, the boys noticed a 
bare, rocky cUff, perhaps a hundred feet high, rising 
sliarp from the left side of the road. The top was 
rounded off. 

*'Look!" said Lou. "That cliff is just like an 
elephant's head, with his trunk coming down to the 
road ! '* 

Mr. Rogers laughed. ** They call it the Elephant's 
Head," he said. ''You're not the first to discover 
the resemblance.'* 

When they had passed the Elephant's Head, they 
saw that the gate of the Notch was, in reality, not 
wide enough to admit both the carriage road and 
the railroad. The railroad, on their right, entered 
through a gap blasted in the solid rock. A few steps 
more, and they were in the gate themselves, and the 
wonderful panorama burst upon them. 

They saw that the railroad kept along the west 
bank of the Notch, high above the bottom, but the 
carriage road plunged directly down, beside the 
Saco River (at this point but a tiny brook). On the 
west side of the Notch Mount Willard rose beside 
them, and south of that Mount Willey shot up almost 
precipitously, the latter being over four thousand feet 
high. On the east side was the huge rampart of 
Mount Webster, also four thousand feet high, and 


nearly as steep, with the long white scars of land- 
slides down its face. 

" Well ! " said Peanut, " the Franconia Notch was 
some place, but this one has got it skun a mile. 
Gee 1 Looks as if the mountains were going to 
tumble over on top of you ! " 

*' They did once, on top of the Willey family,'* 
said Mr. Rogers. *' Come on, we'll walk down till 
we can see how it happened." 

The road plunged rapidly down-hill, into the forest 
at the bottom of the Notch. They met one or two 
motors chugging up, and having a hard time of it. 
In one case, everybody but the driver was walking, 
to lighten the load. 

** I came down this hill on a bicycle once — only 
once," said the Scout Master. *' It was back in 1896, 
when everybody was riding bicycles. I was trying 
to coast through the Notch. Somewhere on this 
hill I ran into a big loose stone, head on, and the 
bicycle stopped. I didn't, though. The man with 
me couldn't stop his wheel for nearly a quarter of a 
mile. Finally he came back and picked me up, and 
took me back to the Crawford House, where they 
bandaged up my head and knee. Somebody brought 
the wheel back on a cart." 

"Say, it would make some coast on a bob-sled, 
though ! " cried Peanut. " Wouldn't be any rocks 
to dodge then." 


" And there'd only be about ten feet of snow in 
here to break out, I reckon," Art answered. 

** Nearer thirty," said Mr. Rogers. 

Over two miles below the Crawford House they 
came to the site of the old Willey House, and saw 
through the trees to the west the towering wall of 
Mount Willey, scarred still by the great landslide, 
seeming to hang over them. 

** There's where she started," said Mr. Rogers, 
pointing to the top of the mountain. " It was back 
in late August, in 1826, that the slide came. There 
had been a drought, making the thin soil on the 
mountain very dry. Then came a terrific storm, a 
regular cloudburst, and the water went through the 
soil and began running down on the rocks under- 
neath. That started the soil and the trees on it 
sliding, and they gathered headway and more soil 
and debris and rocks as they came, the way a snow- 
ball gathers more snow, and presently a whole strip 
of the wall was thundering down. 

'* There had been a smaller slide in June, which 
had terrified the family, and Willey had built a sort 
of slide-proof shelter down the road, in case another 
came. It wasn't so far away that the family didn't 
have time to get to it, if they started when they heard 
the slide first coming, and nobody has ever been 
able to explain why none of them got there. James 
Willey, a brother of the dead man, however, always 


said that his brother's spirit came to him in a dream, 
and told him that the terrible rain, which had caused 
a rise of twenty-four feet in the Saco, made them fear- 
ful of being drowned, and when the water reached 
their door-sill, they fled not to the shelter hut, but 
higher up the slope. Then, when the slide came, 
they were too far away from the hut to escape. 
They had evidently been reading the Bible just be- 
fore they fled, for it was found open in the house." 

" In the house ? " cried Peanut. ** Didn't the 
house get swept away ? " 

** No, that's the oddest and saddest part of the 
story. The slide split on a great boulder or ledge 
behind the house, and if they'd stayed in it, not a 
soul would have perished. As it was, Mr. and Mrs. 
Willey, five children, and two hired men were all 
killed. Three bodies were never found. Only the dog 
escaped. He appeared at a house far down the road, 
the next day, moaning and howling. He was seen 
running back and forth for a few hours, and then he 
disappeared and was never seen again. It was two 
or three days before the floods went down enough to 
allow rescue parties to get up the Notch, however." 

" Let's go see the rock that split the slide," said 

Mr. Rogers led the way behind the site of the old 
house, and showed them the top of the rock, above 
the ground. 


"This boulder was thirty feet high in 1826/' he 
said. " The landslide, as you see, nearly buried it ; 
but it split the stream, and the debris all rushed in 
two currents on either side of the house, uniting 
again in the meadow in front. The house stood for 
many years after that. I think it was destroyed 
finally by fire.'* 

** But what gets me is, why should anybody want 
to live in such a lonesome spot, anyhow ? " said 
Peanut. " Gee, it's getting dark down here al- 

** Well, there was no railroad in those days," Mr. 
Rogers answered, " and the road through the Notch 
was the main artery of travel to the northern side of 
the mountains. I suppose the Willey House made 
a good stopping place for the night. Let's go up to 
the railroad now, and get a look at the engineering 
job, which was a big thing in its day — and is still, for 
that matter." 

They climbed some distance through birch trees 
up the steep western wall of the Notch before reach- 
ing the railroad. Once upon it, they saw the great 
gap in the hills to far better advantage, however, 
than from the road below. Willey shot up directly 
over their heads, as steep a long climb, probably, as 
there is anywhere east of the Rocky Mountains. 
The Scouts came very near deciding to give up a 
day from Washington, and tackle it. Directly 


across the Notch they could see the whole long, 
beetling brow of Webster. 

** It kind of looks like the pictures of Daniel," said 
Peanut. ** Stern and frowning." 

" And the slides are the furrows in his forehead," 
laughed Rob. 

But it was looking north that the view was most 
impressive. The railroad hung dizzily on the side 
wall, with the rocks apparently tumbling upon it from 
the left, and it about to tumble down the rocks to the 
right. It curved eastward a mile or two ahead, and 
at the bend, facing down the Notch, was the precip- 
itous southern wall of Mount Willard, almost a sheer 
rock cliff a thousand feet high. As the party walked 
up the track, the cliff grew nearer and nearer, and as 
the daylight faded in this deep ravine, it seemed 
more and more not to be straight up, but to 
be hanging forward, as if ready to fall on top of 

" I'd hate to be in here during a thunder-storm," 
said Lou. '' It's — it's kind of terrible ! " 

They came through the gate of the Notch at six 
o'clock, and there was the Crawford House in day- 
light, and above it, on the slope of Clinton, were the 
rays of the sun ! 

" Good little old sun," said Peanut. " Wow I I'd 
hate to live where it set every day at four o'clock." 

They now hurried up the Bridle Path to their 


camp, and Peanut tied the flag to a tree, in honor of 
the first camp on the Washington trail, while the 
others began preparations for supper or cut boughs 
for the night. 

When the supper dishes were cleared away, they 
heard a faint sound of music coming up to them 
from below. Peanut pricked up his ears. 

" Concert at the Crawford House ! " he said. 
" Lef s go down and hear it." 

** It sounds pretty nice right here," said Mr. 

" Aw, come on ! " Peanut urged. ** We can get 
post-cards there, too, I guess. Art wants to send 
one to his Pinkie." 

" Shut up ! " said Art. "What you really mean is 
that you want to get some candy." 

" No, I don^t. I got some left from this afternoon." 

** You have 1 " said Frank. " You old tightwad ! 
Why don't you pass it around ? " 

" 'Cause I sat on it by mistake," Peanut answered. 
** Come on down to the hotel." 

" Maybe we'd better," Rob put in. " We can all 
send a card home to our folks." 

'* Not forgetting Pinkie," said Peanut to Art, as he 
ducked down the path, stumbling in the dark. 

Lou took the lantern, and tied his handkerchief 
to a bough over the entrance to the camp. The 
rest waited till this was done, and followed be- 


hind him. They didn't catch Peanut till the very 

"That was easy/' he said. **rm like the old 
geezer on Moosilauke — got a sixth sense in the soles. 
of my feet. Besides, if you get off the path, you 
bump into a tree, which knocks you back in." 

The brightly lighted windows of the Crawford 
House were open, and the sound of the orchestra 
was floating out. Many people were walking up 
and down on the veranda. They were all dressed 
elaborately, many of the men in evening clothes. 
The little party of five boys and a man, in flannel 
shirts and khaki, attracted much attention as they 
entered the lobby of the hotel. 

*'Gee," Art whispered, "think of coming to the 
mountains for a vacation, and having to doll all up 
in your best rags I That's not my idea of fun." 

"It's my idea of the ultimate zero in sport," 
laughed Rob. 

Peanut had at once found the post-card stand, 
and was offering Art a " pretty picture for Pinkie " 
as the latter came up. 

" All right I " Art laughed. " Til send it ! " 

But he wouldn't let anybody else see what he 

The others all sent cards home, and, not to be 
outdone by Art, they sent cards also to the girls 
they had met in Lost River. Peanut found a 



picture of the top of Mount Washington to send 
to Alice, and he carefully drew a picture of himself 
upon the topmost rock, like this : 

On the other side he wrote, **The persevering 
Peanut on the Peak." 

*' Guess that's some alliteration ! " he said. ** Mr 
Rogers, what painter's name began with P ? " 

** Perugino," said the Scout Master. 

" Do you mind spelling it — slowly ? " 

Mr. Rogers spelled it, and Peanut added on the 
card — " Painted by Perugino." 

"Guess that'll hold her royal highness for a 
while ! " he laughed. 

Then he bought a stamp, and triumphantly 
dropped the post-card in the letter box. 

The boys sat on the veranda for a while, listening 


to the music, until Rob and Mr. Rogers noticed that 
Art's eyes were closed, and Peanut's head bobbed 
down upon his chest every few minutes, and Frank 
and Lou were yawning. 

" Bunk ! " said Rob. 

Lou relit the lantern, and they climbed back up 
the path to camp. 

*' We are on the way up Washington at last," said 
the Scout Master as they were rolling up in their 
blankets. " At this time to-morrow, we'll be asleep 
on the highest point east of the Rockies, and north 
of Virginia." 

" Hooray," said Peanut. " Let Per — Per — Peru- 
gino know, please.'* 


A Fight with the Storm on the Crawford 
Bridle Path 

THE morning dawned cold, with a north wind, 
and the Scouts woke up shivering. As they 
were in the woods on the west slope of a mountain, 
it would be some time before they could see the sun, 
but so far as they could get a glimpse through the 
trees to the west and north, the day promised well 
for the ascent of Washington. 

'* Looks clear," said Art. **I wonder if old Wash- 
ington has got a cloud cap on ? " 

*' We'll know before very long," said the Scout 
Master. ''Even if it has, I don't think we've got 
much kick coming. Here we've been out in the 
open since the night before the Fourth, and not a 
bad day yet." 

" Right-o ! " said Peanut. "Weather man must 
have known we were up here." 

The party ate a good breakfast, chiefly of fresh 
eggs, which Lou ran down to the Crawford House 
and bought while the fire was being made. Then 
the packs were carefully packed, the blanket rolls 



firmly strapped, compasses examined and stowed in 
the pockets, and the party was ready for the ascent. 
They moved rather slowly into the path, and turned 
upward, for the loads were heavy. They were 
carrying enough provisions for four days, the evapo- 
rated vegetables and powdered milk and eggs hav- 
ing been largely saved for this final trip over the 
bare Presidentials, where they would be far from any 
sources of fresh supply, and their weight increased 
by flour, a little butter, some coffee, bacon, potted 
ham and sweet chocolate purchased the day before 
in Franconia. 

** I feel like a packhorse," said Peanut. 

" Don't you mean a donkey?" Art laughed. 

"Speaking of horses," said Mr. Rogers, as they 
plodded up the trail through the woods, '* this Craw- 
ford Bridle Path was made originally for horses, little 
burros I suppose they were, and folks even when I 
was a boy used to go up on their backs. I suppose 
the cog railroad put that form of transportation 
gradually out of business. Now nobody goes up this 
way except on Shanks' mare." 

"When was this path made?" asked Frank. 

" It was the first path cut on the Presidential 
range," Mr. Rogers replied. " Abel Crawford 
opened it in 1819, as far as the summit of Clinton — 
three miles from the Crawford House. It's another 
five and a half or six to the top of Washington, 


however, and it wasn*t till about 1840, 1 believe, that 
one of Abel's sons converted it into a bridle path and 
carried it on to Washington. You see, by that time, 
people had begun to visit the mountains for their 
vacations in large numbers." 

" So the part we are on is nearly a hundred years 
old 1 " Lou exclaimed. 

They plodded steadily upward, by a fairly steep 
grade, though not a difficult one. The rising sun 
was now striking down into the spruce and hemlock 
woods about them, but they noted that it was rather 
a hazy sun. 

"I bet there's a cloud on Washington," Art 

"What'll we do if there is? Can we climb in 
it?" Frank asked. 

" That all depends," the Scout Master replied, 
"upon how bad a cloud it is. If we get into a 
storm up there, a real storm, we'll beat it back, you 
bet ! I haven't told you, I guess, that as late as 
1900 two men lost their lives on this path in a snow- 
storm on the 30th of June — that's hardly more than 
a week earlier than to-day. Down here it's mid- 
summer, but up there on the five thousand or six 
thousand foot level it's still early spring." 

" Golly ! " said Peanut, in such a heartfelt manner 
that the rest laughed — though they laughed rather 


"I ought to add," the Scout Master went on, 
"that W. B. Curtis and his companion, Allen 
Ormsby, the two men who died, would not have per- 
ished, probably, if they had turned back when they 
first saw threats of bad weather, as they were warned 
to do, instead of trying to keep on, or even if there 
had been a shelter hut, as there is now, on the long, 
bare, wind-swept col between Monroe and the summit 
cone of Washington. They tried to build a shelter 
under Monroe, and then left that to press on to the 
summit. Curtis didn't quite get to the site of the 
present hut, but doubtless he would have if the hope 
of it had been there to spur him on. As it was, he 
evidendy fell and injured himself, and Ormsby died 
some distance up the final cone, struggling in a mad 
attempt to get to the top and find aid for Curtis. 
He had fifty bruises on his body where the wind had 
blown him against the rocks< Curtis was thinly 
clad, and he was sixty years old. Two guides, de- 
scending, who met them on Pleasant, had warned 
them not to go on — that there was snow and terrible 
wind above ; but they evidently didn't realize at all 
what they were in for." 

" Oh, well, we've got blankets, and you know the 
way," cried Peanut. "What do we care? Guess 
we'll ride out anything that can hit us in July ! " 

The conversation was suddenly interrupted by a 
sharp " S-sh I " from Art, who was leading. The 


rest stopped short, and looked up the path in the 
direction of his pointing finger. 

There, right in the path fifty feet ahead, pecking 
away at the mould exactly like a hen in the barn- 
yard, was a big brown partridge ! The Scouts stole 
softly toward it, expecting every moment to see it 
rise and go whirring off through the woods. It did 
stop feeding, raised its head to look at them, and then 
hopped up the bank beside the path and began 
scratching again. 

**Good gracious, is it a tame partridge?" Art 
whispered in astonishment. 

But his astonishment was still greater when, a mo- 
ment later, the whole party stood in the path not six 
feet from the bird, and saw that it was one of a small 
covey of six. Four of them were feeding on the 
ground, and making soft, pretty coots, like hens on a 
hot summer day. Two were perched lazily on the 
low branch of a hemlock. They paid no attention 
to the Scouts. 

" Gee I " said Frank, ** you could knock 'em over 
with a stick ! Let's have partridge for dinner." 

" Nix ! " said Art. " It's out of season. Besides, 
I wouldn't kill anything so tame. I guess they're 
not hunted much here. I never saw 'em tame like 
this before in my life. Down home they'd have been 
a mile away by now." 

The birds looked up at the sound of his voice, and 


moved a few feet farther of!. Then they began feed- 
ing again, the hens following the cock in a sort of 

" They certainly are pretty/' Rob said. ** I didn't 
know a partridge was so pretty. Take a picture of 
'em, Frank." 

" Not sun enough in under those trees," Frank 
sighed. " I wish I could." 

The boys were reluctant to leave the partridges, 
but the day was mounting, and they pressed on. 

The trees were growing more and more stunted, 
and rocks began to appear in the trail. Now and 
then there was a break to the north, and they could 
see far below to the broad green intervale of Bretton 
Woods. In another half hour, the forest had shrunk 
to dwarf shrubs, and they emerged above timber 
line almost upon the top of Clinton. The summit, 
however, lay a few hundred feet to the south of 
them, and shut out the view in that direction. 
Northward, they could see for a long distance. 
Westward, too, they looked back at the first moun- 
tains toward Franconia. Ahead of them, they saw 
only a great, bare, rocky ridge rising gradually to 
the dome of Mount Pleasant, and to the left of this, 
northeastward, the sloping shoulders of the moun- 
tains beyond, falling away to the valley far beneath. 
Washington was hidden somewhere beyond Pleasant 
— still six miles away. It was nine o'clock. The 


dome of Pleasant was free from clouds. The north- 
ern sky was blue. Yet the sun was hazy, and south- 
eastward there seemed to be a haze over everything. 
The wind was cold. Mr. Rogers shook his head, but 
said nothing. 

Sitting down to rest, and ease shoulders from the 
pull of the pack straps, he pulled the little green Ap- 
palachian guide-book out of his pocket, and read the 
" Caution " therein about the Crawford Path : 

" This path is one of the most dangerous in the 
White Mountains, on it no less than four persons 
having lost their lives. For a long five miles it is 
above tree line and exposed to the full force of all 
storms and there is but one side-trail leading to the 
shelter of the woods. The following precautions 
are suggested : — Persons unfamiliar with the range 
should not ascend the Crawford Path except in fine 
weather and beginners should not attempt it alone. 
If trouble arises south of Pleasant go back over 
Clinton. If on Pleasant go down the Mount Pleas- 
ant Path. If between Pleasant and Franklin re- 
member that by returning via the south loop there is 
protection from north and northwest winds in the 
lee of the mountain. Between Franklin and the cone 
of Washington the Club's Refuge Hut should be 
used. This is the most dangerous part of the path. 
Never, under any circumstances, attempt the cone if 
a storm has caused serious trouble before its base is 
reached. Should the path be lost in cloudy 
weather go north, descending into the woods and 
following water. On the south nearly all the slopes 
are much more precipitous and the distance to civili- 
zation is much greater.*^ 


"Say, what are you trying to do, scare us to 
death ? " Peanut saidc 

** No, I'm not trying to scare you," Mr. Rogers 
answered. *' But I do want to impress on you, be- 
fore v/e begin our two or three days on these sum- 
mits, that they are dangerous mountains, and that 
here, if anywhere, our scout motto, 'Be prepared,' 
is the one to Hve by. As you say, we have blankets, 
plenty of food, and compasses, and we can go down 
anywhere we want, if need be, into the timber, and 
get through. But we might get scattered, or after 
to-day we might split for a time into groups, and I 
want you all to know what to do. Now, let's on 

Packs were resumed, and the party started ahead 
along the rocky path toward the domed summit of 
Mount Pleasant, which from this high col was 
hardly more than a hill of rocks, rising a few hundred 
feet above the path. They plodded on for a mile or 
more, and began to see over into the great wilder- 
ness to the south To the north, at their very feet, 
lay the Bretton Woods intervale, with the hotels and 
golf links, but to the south the pitch was much 
steeper, and dropped into a region of forest and 
tumbled mountains without a house or road of any 
sort as far as the eye could see. 

Now the path divided, the trail to the left leading 
directly over the summit of Pleasant. They took 


the right hand trail, and dropped down a little, go- 
ing along through some low scrub which had climbed 
up from the gulf below, protected from the north 
winds. It was warmer here in the shelter of Pleas- 
ant, and they stopped for a long drink by a spring. 
But, two miles from Clinton, they rose again beyond 
Pleasant upon the bare col between Pleasant and 
Franklin, and got the full force of the north wind, 
which seemed to be blowing harder than before. 
The sun, too, was getting more misty. Mr. Rogers 
was watching the south and southeast, but while it 
was very hazy in that direction, the direction of the 
wind didn^t seem to indicate that the mist bank 
could come their way. They rested a moment, and 
then began the toilsome ascent up over the waste of 
strewn boulders toward the summit of Franklin. The 
path was no longer distinct. Here and there it was 
plain enough, but in other places it could be detected 
only by the piles of rock, or cairns, every hundred 
feet along the way. 

As they drew near the summit of Franklin, Frank, 
who happened to look back down the trail, shouted 
to the rest. 

" Look," he said, " somebody's coming up behind 

The others turned. Sure enough, half a mile back 
down the trail, were two people, a man and a 
woman, evidently hurrying rapidly. 


" They haven't any packs or blankets," said Art. 

" Nor anything at all, but sweaters tied around 
their waists, as far as I can see," Lou added. 

'* Probably going up for the day only, and expect- 
ing to get down again before night," said the Scout 
Master. " They'll have to hurry. They seem to be 
hurrying. They'll catch us all right, at the rate 
they are coming now, before we get beyond Mon- 

A few moments later, the Scouts were on top of 
Franklin, 5,029 feet, the first time they had been 
above the five thousand foot level except on the 
summit of Lafayette. Directly ahead, a little over a 
mile away, was the summit of Monroe, two jagged 
twin shoulders of rock, with the south wall plunging 
down almost precipitously into the great pit of Cakes 
Gulf. Beyond Monroe, rising a thousand feet higher 
into the air, at last the great summit cone of Wash- 
ington was fully revealed, and even as they gazed 
upon it, a thin streamer of grayish white cloud blew 
against it out of nothingness, and then shredded out 
to the southward. 

" I don't like that," said Rob. 

•' Hm," said Mr. Rogers, " if it's no worse than 
that we needn't worry. It's those two behind I'm 
thinking about," 

The Scouts moved on, across the col between 
Franklin and Monroe, with the north wind blowing 


an increasing gale, and always now on their right 
the yawning pit of Oakes Gulf. They were not more 
than half-way across when the couple behind them 
came over Franklin, following them. They were 
under the southern side of Monroe, some little dis- 
tance below the summit, and very close to the head 
wall of the gulf, when the couple caught them. 

Meanwhile the cone of Washington had gone out 
of sight in a white mass. Southward, the view was 
shut out, for the haze had moved up against the 
wind. Down at their very feet, in Oakes Gulf, a 
cloud suddenly appeared from nowhere, coming to 
the last scrub evergreens. 

The couple hailed the boys with panting breathe 

" How much farther is it up Washington ? " the 
man asked. 

Mr. Rogers and the Scouts turned and looked at 
them. They were young, evidently city bred, and 
they had on very light shoes. The girl had on a 
silk waist, the man a stiff collar ! They had no food 
with them, having eaten some sandwiches they 
brought, so they said, as they walked. They had put 
on their sweaters, and had no other protection. 

" You are two miles from the summit yet," said 
Mr. Rogers, ** with the hardest part of the climb 

** Oh, John, I can never do it I " said the girl. 

" We've £^ot to do it," the man answered. " You 


see/' he added to Mr. Rogers, " weVe got to catch 
the train down. Some people are waiting for us at 
the Mount Pleasant House." 

** The train down I " said Mr. Rogers. " Why, 
man alive, it's nearly noon now, and the train goes 
down shortly after one. It will take you two hours 
to make the summit cone, with your — your wife in 
her present condition, even if you don't lose the 

'• I — I'm not his wife," the girl said, turning very 
pale. •' We are engaged only. You see, we've got 
to get down again to-day. Oh, John, we mus^ csitch 
that train I " 

" Come on, then, we'll do it I Why, we can make 
two miles in less than an hour ! Two hours, in- 
deed ! ^' 

He started ahead, but Mr. Rogers grabbed his 

" Hold on I " he said, " have you ever been on 
this mountain before? " 

** No," they both answered. 

" Well, I have," the Scout Master continued. 
** Ahead of you lies the most dangerous stretch of 
path east of the Rocky Mountains. There's a cloud 
coming down from Washington, and we may have 
a storm at any minute. You've got no compass, no 
provisions, no proper clothes. You'd lose that path 
in five minutes in a cloud. In 1900, the thirtieth 


day of June, two men, good strong walkers, too, died 
of exposure between here and the summit. You stay 
with us." 

The girl went whiter still, and the man, also, grew 

" But can't we go back the way we've come? " he 

Mr. Rogers pointed back over the ridge. A cloud 
was rolling up and over it from the pit of Oakes 

" You'd lose that path, too," he said. '* You stick 
with us, and if we can't make the summit before the 
storm breaks, we'll ride her out in the Shelter Hut 
Come, I'm captain, now. Forward, march I " 

As the party emerged from the slight shelter of 
Monroe, upon the great, bare stretch of rising plateau 
which forms the col between Monroe and the summit 
cone, they could with difficulty stand up at first 
against the gale which hit them. The clouds were 
apparently doing a kind of devil's dance around 
Washington. Behind them other clouds had sucked 
up the Notch, and then up Oakes Gulf, and were 
pouring over the southern peaks behind like a gigan- 
tic wave, beaten back into breakers by the wind. 
Here on this plateau they were for the time being in 
a kind of vortex between two cloud masses. They 
hurried as fast as they could, Mr. Rogers and Art 


All the party were rather pale, especially the girl. 
Rob was walking beside her, and helping her fight 
the great wind. Their breath was short, in this alti- 
tude, and hurrying was hard work. Moreover, the 
wind came in mighty, sudden gusts, which almost 
knocked the breath out of them and frequently made 
them stop and brace. 

They had not gone a quarter of a mile when the 
clouds that came down Washington and those which 
streamed in from Oakes Gulf closed together, and 
the last of the party, who chanced to be Lou, sud- 
denly found that he couldn't see anything, nor any- 

His heart gave a great jump in his breast, and he 
let out a terrified cry, which was almost lost in the 
howl of the wind. 

** Come on up ! '' he heard faintly. A second later, 
and he saw the forms of Peanut and Frank emerge 
from the mist ahead of him. The whole party now 
gathered close in behind Mr. Rogers, keeping only 
two feet apart, almost treading on each other's heels. 
The Scout Master stopped a second. 

" Everybody watch for the cairns," he shouted, 
" and keep close together. Art and I have our com- 
passes. Now, keep cool. We are only a short way 
from the hut. We'll go in there till the worst is 

Then he moved on, slowly, making sure of the 


patho The wind was rising. The cloud that packed 
them close as cotton batting condensed on their 
clothes in fine drops. Suddenly Peanut, who was 
blowing on his chilled hands, noticed that the drops 
were beginning to freeze I The rocks of the path 
were getting slippery, too. The girl had stumbled 
once, and strained her ankle. She was paler than 

" Oh, why did I wear these high heeled shoes 1 " 
she half sobbed. 

The words were no sooner out of her mouth (and 
probably nobody heard them for the shrieking of the 
wind along the stony ground), when a terrific gust 
hit the party in the faces, its force knocking their 
breath out, the hail-like, freezing cloud stinging their 
faces, the damp cold of it numbing them. The girl 
fell again, Rob holding her enough to break the fall. 
Mr. Rogers ahead also fell, but intentionally. He 
made a trumpet with his hands. 

'* Lie down and get your breaths ! " he shouted. 
" Then go on in the next lull as far as you can I " 

They all got up again when the hurricane blast 
was over, and, heads down into the teeth of the icy 
wind, they pushed on, till the next gust made them 
fall down for shelter. 

" Two miles in an hour ! " Peanut was thinking. 
" We aren't going a quarter of a mile an hour at this 
rate. Will we ever get there ? " 


But the rest were struggling on, and he struggled, 
too, though his instinct was to turn back to the 
wind, and beat it for the Crawford House, not real- 
izing that over four miles of bare summit lay between 
him and the sheltering woods. 

Suddenly Art and Mr. Rogers ahead gave a cry. 
The rest, looking, saw dimly in the swirling vapor 
only a pile of stones and a cross. 

" It's the spot where Curtis died," Mr. Rogers 
shouted. *' We have only a quarter of a mile to go." 

" Gee, I don't think it's very cheerful," said Pea- 
nut. '* I'm near frozen now." 

At the sight of the cross the girl gave way. She 
began to sob, and Rob felt her weight suddenly sag 
heavily on his arm. 

" Here, quick ! " he yelled at her companion. 
" Take her other arm." 

The two of them got Rob's blanket unrolled and 
wrapped about her, as best they could for the whip- 
ping of the gale, and then half carried her along, 
while she tried bravely to stop her hysterical sobbing. 

The gale was now a perfect fury. It must have 
been blowing seventy miles an hour, and the contact 
of this north wind with the warmer cloud bank from 
the south was making a perfect hurricane vortex of 
half frozen vapor around these high summits. Every- 
body was exhausted with fighting against it, and 
chilled with cold. Mr. Rogers and Art. however. 


kept shouting back encouragement as each fresh 
cairn was picked up, and as Mr. Rogers knew the 
trail, and they had a map and compass, there were 
only a few delays while he or Art prospected ahead 
at blind spots. Alternately lying on their faces on 
the frozen, wet rocks to get their breaths, and push- 
ing on into the gale, they struggled ahead for what 
seemed hours. Actually it was only half an hour. 
Half an hour to go 440 yards I 

Suddenly, out of the vapor, not twenty-five feet 
ahead of them, loomed a small, gray shanty. 

"Hoorah!'' cried Art and Mr. Rogers. "The 

To THE Summit, Safe at Last 

THEY dashed to it, and opened the door. The 
hut was a tiny affair, with a lean-to roof. It 
faced to the south, with a door so narrow a stout 
person could barely squeeze in, and one tiny window. 
It would hold about six people without undue crowd- 
ing — and here were eight ! 

" Peanut's only half a one,'* said Art, cracking the 
first joke since the storm began. 

Into the hut, however, all eight of them crowded. 
Inside, they found two or three blankets hung on a 
string, and nothing else except a sign forbidding its 
use in any save cases of emergency. 

** I guess this is emergency, all right," said Rob, 
as he helped to wrap the girl in a pair of dry blank- 
ets, and put the third blanket about her companion. 
The boys all wrapped up in their own. Rob then 
got out his first aid kit, and gave the girl some aro- 
matic spirits of ammonia, which revived her so that 
her hysterical sobbing stopped. 

" Here, take my pack," said Lou, "and use it for 
a pillow." 



The young man, who was nearly as pale as the 
girl, and almost as exhausted, took the pack and 
placed it in a corner. Then they laid the girl on 
the floor, with her head upon it. Her fiance bent 
over her. In cases like this you don't think of other 
people being around. He kissed her, and all the 
boys turned their faces away, and Peanut rubbed 
the back of his hand suspiciously across his eyes. 

" Guess he's glad we*ve got her safe in here," 
Peanut whispered—or rather he spoke in what was 
merely a loud tone, which amounted to a whisper 
with the gale howling so outside. 

** I guess we're all glad we're in here," Frank re- 
plied. " Look out there I " 

They looked through the window into what at 
first appeared to be the thick cotton batting of the 
cloud, but closer inspection showed them that it was 
snow. The cloud was condensing into snow ! 

** Whew I " Peanut whistled, while the tiny cabin 
gave a shiver as if it were going to be lifted from its 

*' Lord, what a gale 1 " said somebody else. 

There was silence in the hut. Everybody was 
listening to the wind. It was howling outside, seem- 
ing to sing over the loose stones of the mountain 
top, and wail through the chinks of the tiny cabin. 
It blew incessantly, but every few seconds a stronger 
gust would come, and as if a giant hand had sud- 


denly hit it, the cabin would shiver to its founda- 
tions. And outside was only a great white opacity 
of snow and cloud ! 

" Well, well 1 " cried Mr. Rogers, suddenly, in a 
cheerful voice, " here we are safe and snug — almost 
too snug. It's lunch time. It's past lunch time. 
Why shouldn't we eat ? We'll all feel better if we 

"How are we going to cook anything ? " asked 
Art. " There's no stove, and no chimney." 

*' And no wood," said Rob. 

" There's a little bit of wood outside the door. I 
saw it when we came in," said Frank. 

** And a lot of good it would do," Art answered. 
" You couldn't even light it out there in that tor- 

" We've got some cold things," said the Scout 
Master. " Come on, out with that can of potted 
ham, and the crackers we bought in Franconia to 
eat bacon on, and some sweet chocolate. We'll do 
very nicely." 

The Scouts soon had sandwiches made with the 
crackers and ham, and offered them first to the 
couple, who, wrapped in t)lankets, were shivering 
in the corner. The girl sat up, and she and the 
man each ate two sandwiches hungrily, and sweet 
chocolate beside. The girl's color began to come 


" Do you feel better now, dear ? " the man asked her 

She nodded her head. ' - 

" Of course she does," said Mr. Rogers. *' FU tell 
you something now that we are safe in the shelter. 
There was no time nor chance to tell you out there. 
I was too busy keeping the trail. It's this : — about 
half the trouble on mountains like this comes from 
funk, just as half the drownings occur from the same 
cause. Not only do you lose your way much more 
easily when you get terrified, but your vitality is 
lowered, and the cold and exhaustion get you 
quicker. If you keep cool, and your heart is beat- 
ing steadily, normally, your eye finds the trail better 
and your body resists the elements. That is why 
nobody ought to tackle this Bridle Path who isn't 
familiar with the mountain, unless he is accompanied 
by some one who is familiar with it. And, unless 
the weather is good, nobody should tackle it with- 
out a food supply. In fact, I'd go so far as to say 
they never should, for you can't depend on the 
weather here for half a day at a time, or even an 

" I realize that now," the man said, soberly, as he 
shivered in his blanket. " They told us down at the 
Crawford House that it was going to be a gale up 
here to-day, but I'm afraid we didn't realize what a 
gale on Washington meant. I don't know what 
would have become of us if we hadn't met you I " 


" Oh, John, don't I " cried the girl, as if she was 
going to weep again. 

" Well, I call it some adventure ! " Peanut cried. 
** Gee, ril bet we'll all talk about it when we get 
home ! Mr. Rogers had me scared, all right, way 

back on Clinton, talking about storms and " 

(here Peanut, who was about to say " people killed 
in 'em," caught Rob's eye in warning, and added 

instead) " and things. When the clouds hit 

us, my heart came up into my mouth, and then went 
down into my boots like a busted elevator, and I got 
kind of cold all over. I can see how, if I'd been 
alone, that would have knocked the legs out from 
under me, all right. But there was Mr. Rogers 
keeping the trail, so I just plugged along — and here 
we are 1 Say, I'm going out in the snow ! Snoi» 
in July I Hooray ! Come on. Art ! " 

Peanut and Art opened the narrow slit of a dooj 
wrapping their blankets close about them while Mv , 
Rogers shouted to them not to go out of sight of 
the cabin, and stood outside in the icy cloud. Rob, 
watching them through the window, saw them 
scooping the thin layer of snow off a rock, and 
moulding it into a snowball apiece, which they 
threw at each other. He could see their mouths 
opening, as if they were shouting, but the howling 
of the gale drowned all sound. A few minutes later 
they came in again, their faces and hands red. 


" Say, it's cold out there ! '' cried Art, ** but the 
wind is going down a bit, I think, and it looks 
lighter in the north." 

'* It wouldn't surprise me if it cleared up in an 
hour," said Mr. Rogers, " and it wouldn't surprise 
me if we had to stay here all night" 

"All night! "cried the girl. "Oh, John, we've 
go^ to get down to-night. Oh, where will mother 
think we are 1 They'll know we were in the storm, 
too, and worry. Oh, dear ! " 

She began to sob again, and the man endeavored 
to comfort her. 

" Come, come ! " said Mr. Rogers, rather sternly, 
"you've got to make the best of a bad bargain. If 
we can get to the Summit House later in the day, 
you can telephone down to the base. Where are 
your family ? " 

"They were at Fabyans," the man answered. 
" We were all going to Bethlehem this afternoon, 
after the train got down the mountain. You see. 
Miss Brown and I wanted to walk up the Crawford 
Bridle Path, and catch the train down. We started 
very early. A friend of ours walked it last summer 
in three hours and a half." 

" Some walking I " said Peanut 

"Well, it's been done in two hours and thirty 
minutes," the Scout Master replied. " But it was 
done in that time by two men, college athletes, in 


running drawers, and they were trained for mountain 
climbing, into the bargain. And they had clear 
weather to the top. Whoever told you that you 
could make it ought to have a licking. Of course 
your family will worry, but you — and they — will 
have to stand it, as the price of your foolhardiness. 
We are not going out of this hut while the storm 
lasts, that's sure ! " 

Something in Mr. Rogers* stern tone seemed to 
brace the girl suddenly up. She stopped sobbing, 
and said, "Very well, I suppose there's nothing to 
do but wait." 

Then she rose to her feet, and stamped around a bit 
on her lame ankle, to keep it from getting stiffened 
up too much, and to warm her blood, besides. 

" rd like to know what the thermometer is," said 
Frank. ** Must be below freezing, that's sure." 

Rob was looking out of the window. " I'm not so 
sure," he answered. ** It has stopped snowing now. 
Say ! I believe it's getting lighter ! " 

He opened the door and slipped out of the hut 
into the cloud. A moment later he came back. 

** The north is surely breaking 1 " he cried. "This 
cloud bank hasn't got far over the range. The north 
wind has fought it back. While I was watching, the 
wind seemed to tear a kind of hole in the cloud, and 
I saw a bit of the valley for a second. Come on out 
and watch 1 " 


All the Scouts went outside, leaving the couple 
alone within. As soon as they got free of the lee 
side of the shelter, the gale hit them full force, the 
cloud condensing on their blankets, which they had 
hard work to keep wrapped about them. But the 
sight well repaid the effort. The wind was playing 
a mad game with the vapors on the whole north 
side of the range. The great cloud mass below 
them was thinner than it had been. They could see 
for several hundred feet along the bare or snow-and- 
ice capped rocks, which looked wild and desolate 
beyond description. Farther away, where the rocks 
were swallowed up in the mists, was a seething cal- 
dron of clouds, driven in wreaths and spirals by the 
wind. Suddenly a lane would open between them, 
and the rocks would be exposed far down the moun- 
tain. As suddenly the lane would close up again. 
Then it would once more open, perhaps so wide and 
far that a glimpse of green valley far below would 
come for a second into view. Once the top of Mount 
Dartmouth was visible for a full minute. Still later, 
looking northeast, the great northern shoulder of 
Mount Clay appeared. 

** The clouds are not far down on the north side of 
the range, that's a fact," said Mr. Rogers. " With 
this north wind still blowing we may get it clear 
enough to tackle the peak yet. But we don't want 
to stand out here in the cold too long.'' 


Everybody went back to the shelter and waited 
another half hour, which seemed more like two hours, 
as Peanut said. Then somebody went out again to 
reconnoitre, and returned with the information that 
the cloud was lifting still more, and the northern 
valley was visible. In another half hour even from 
within the cabin they could see it was very percepti- 
bly lighter. The hurricane had subsided to a steady 
gale, which Rob estimated at forty miles an hour, 
by tossing a bit of paper into the air and watching 
the speed of its flight. It was warmer, too, though 
still very chilling in the fireless cabin. In another 
half hour you could walk some distance from the 
cabin without losing sight of it, and Peanut and Art 
went down to the spring behind for water. Then 
Mr. Rogers took the Scouts back on the trail a 
short distance and showed them a peep of the 
two Lakes of the Clouds back on the col toward 

" We were going to have lunch by those lakes," 
he said. " I wanted to show you several interesting 
things about them. But they'll have to wait. It's a 
regular Alpine garden down there, and it's coming 
into flower now. If we get a good day to-morrow, 
we can take it in, though." 

**Look," cried Lou, suddenly, "there's Monroe 
coming out of the cloud I " 

" And there's Franklin behind it I " cried Frank. 


" And there's a misty bright spot where the sun 
is I '* cried Peanut. 

They hastened back toward the shelter to carry 
the news to the couple within, and even as they 
walked the clouds seemed to be rolled up by the 
wind from the northern slopes, and blown off toward 
the south. Before long, the whole Crawford Trail 
behind them was practically free from cloud, and the 
sun, very faint and hazy, was making a soft dazzle 
on the powder of frost upon the rocks, for the snow 
was little more than a heavy frost. To the north, 
they could again see the valley, and the Dartmouth 
range beyond it, and peaks still farther away, with 
the sunlight on them. 

But the entire summit cone of Washington was 
still invisible. Standing in front of the shelter, they 
looked along a plateau of granite and saw it end in 
a solid mass of cloud. 

" Oh, does that mean we can't go on ? " cried the 

Mr. Rogers looked at her. " How do you feel ? " 
he said. 

" Lame and cold," she answered, " but I can do 

'' Well, I feel pretty sure that this storm is over for 
the day," the Scout Master replied. " But those 
clouds will probably take all night to blow off Wash- 
ington. I can keep the path, I feel pretty sure. It 


is plain after you reach the actual cone. And, any- 
how, we've got time enough to circle the cone till 
we reach the railroad trestle, if worst comes to worst. 
I guess you'd be better off at the top. Shoulder 
packs, boys I '^ 

He looked at his watch. It was half-past three. 
'* Now, less than two miles ! Keep moving briskly. 
There's nothing to fear now. This storm is over, 
I'm sure. A fire waits on top ! " 

They started out at a good pace over the plateau 
of Bigelow Lawn, Lou looking eagerly at the numer- 
ous wild flowers in the rock crannies. The snow 
was already melting, but it only made the trail the 
more slippery, and this, coupled with the high wind, 
made walking difficult. The girl and her companion 
had no poles, so Rob and Art lent them theirs, and 
Rob walked beside the girl to help her over bad 

A third of a mile above the refuge they came upon 
the Boott Spur Trail, leading off to the right, down 
the long ridge of the spur, southward. 

**Tuckerman's Ravine is in there, to the east of 
Boott Spur," said the Scout Master. ** It seems to 
be filled with clouds now." 

The clouds, however, were off the spur, and 
though now, as the summit path swung rather 
sharply toward the north and began to go up 
steeply, thev were entering into the vapor about the 


cone of Washington, it was much less dense than 
during the morning, and they could see the path 
ahead without much difficulty. This path was 
something like a trench in the rocks, apparently 
made by picking up loose stones and piling them on 
either side till the bottom was smooth enough to 
walk on — or, rather, not too rough to walk on. 

" This path's a cinch now," said Peanut, going into 
the lead. 

Every one, however, as the trail grew steeper and 
steeper, began to pant, and pause often for breath. 

** What's the matter with my wind ? " asked Art. 
** Is it the fog in my lungs ? " 

"It's the altitude," Mr. Rogers laughed. "It 
oughtn't to bother you boys much, though. You are 
young. I'm the one who should be short breathed. 
The older you get, the less ready your heart is to 
respond to high altitudes." 

** I don't mind it," sang back Peanut. ** Art feels 
it because he's so fat ! " 

They toiled on a few moments more in silence, 
and then Lou suddenly exclaimed, " Look I a 
junco ! " 

Sure enough, out from under a rock was hopping 
a junco. Art went toward it, and looking under the 
rock found the nest. 

" Well 1 " he said. " What do you think of that ! 
A junco nesting on the ground I " 


" Where else would he nest here ? " Lou laughed. 
" But j uncos are winter birds, I thought." 

"Well, ain't this winter weather enough for you to- 
day ? " said Art. 

" The top of Washington is said to be about the 
climate of Labrador," Mr. Rogers put in. " That's 
why some j uncos always spend the summer here in- 
stead of going farther north." 

Lou was watching the pretty gray and white bird, 
as it hopped excitedly over the rocks, almost invis- 
ible sometimes against the bare gray granite, and in 
the whitish mist. "That junco is protectively 
colored on these rocks, all right," he said. " But 
gee, he looks kind of lonely way up here ! " 

" Lonely ! " exclaimed Frank. " I must say, this 
whole place is the most desolate looking thing I ever 
saw — nothing but big hunks of granite piled every 
which way, and no sun and no sky and no earth be- 
low you. 1 feel kind of as if we were the only peo- 
ple in the whole world." 

" So do I," said Peanut. " I like it, though ! Way 
up in the clouds above everybody — not a sound but 
the win " 

Just at that moment, seemingly from the gray 
cloud over their heads, rang out the call of a 
bugle I 

Everybody stopped short, and exclaimed, " What's 
that ? " 


'' We aren't up to the top yet," said Mr. Rogers. 
" Somebody must be coming down." 

'* Hello, yourself I " yelled Peanut, at the top of his 

There was a sharp toot on the bugle, and as the 
Scouts moved forward up the trail, they presently 
saw dim figures above them, moving down. A mo- 
ment later and the parties met. The newcomers 
were five men, with packs and poles. One of them 
had a bugle slung from his shoulder. 

" Is Miss Alice Brown in your party ? " they called 
as soon as they came in sight. 

" Here I am," the girl said. ''■ What is it ? " 

She had gone white again, and hung on Rob's 

*' We're looking for you, that's all," said the five 
men, as the parties met. *-' Is your companion 
here ? " 

** I'm here — we're both here, thanks to these boys 
and their leader," the man replied. '* How did you 
know we were coming up ? " 

" How did w^e know ? " said the man with the 
bugle. " Miss Brown's parents have been spending 
$7,333,641,45 telephoning to the summit to find out 
if you had arrived. As soon as we got word that the 
lower ridges had cleared, we started down to look for 

" Oh, poor mamma I " cried the girl. 


" Well, she'll be waiting for you with her ear glued 
to the other end of the wire when you get up— 
never fear," the bugler said. Then he turned to Mr. 
Rogers. ** Where did you ride her out ? The 
shelter ? '^ he asked. 

*' Yes," the Scout Master replied. ** That shelter 
certainly justified itself to-day." 

** Good ! " said the other. " Score one more for the 
Appalachian Club. It was the worst July storm I 
ever saw on the mountain. A hundred miles an hour 
on top, and the thermometer down to twenty-two." 

He moved on up the trail beside Mr. Rogers and 
one or two of the Scouts. 

** Greenhorns, of course ? " he queried, in a low 
tone, nodding back toward the man and girl. 
** Tried it without any food, or enough clothes, or 
even a compass, I'll bet ? " 

'* Exactly," the Scout Master answered. " They 
were following us — expected to make the top in time 
to catch the train down. Thought it was a pleasant 
morning stroll, I suppose. They caught us under 
Monroe, when the weather was first thickening up 
nasty. The girl had wrenched her ankle, and it 
seemed wiser to make the shelter than to try to get 
back to the Mount Pleasant trail, and then way down 
Pleasant to Bretton Woods, in the teeth of the gale." 

*' Quite right," said the other. " Did you have 
any trouble with the path?" 


*'A good deal," Mr. Rogers answered. 'Art, 
here, and I were picking it up, and we didn't let on, 
but it was hard work, especially with that icy gale in 
your face. It ought to have at least double the num- 
ber of cairns between Monroe and the summit cone. 
I really thought Vd lost it once, but we picked up the 
next cairn before we got nervous." 

"You're right," said the bugler. "You're quite 
right. They've neglected this fine old path for the 
paths on the north peaks. And it's more dangerous 
than any of the north peaks, too. It ought to be re- 

As he spoke, they came suddenly into what looked 
like an old cellar hole in the rocks. 

" The corral where the horses used to be hitched 
after they'd come up the Bridle Path," said the man. 
•* We're almost there, now." 

The path became more nearly level, and very soon, 
through the cloud, they could make out what looked 
like the end of a wooden bridge. A moment later, 
and they saw it was the end of a railroad trestle. 
Another minute, and through the vapors they saw 
emerge a house, a curious, long, low house, built of 
stone, with a wooden roof. The house was shaped 
just like a Noah's ark. 

" The summit 1 " cried Mr. Rogers. " There's the 
old Tip Top House ! '^ 

The Scouts gave a yell and jumped upon the 


platform at the top of the railroad. From this plat- 
form a board walk led up to the door of the Tip Top 
House. Across the track, steps led down to a barn 
and a second house, the coach house at the top ot 
the carriage road, which ascends the eastern slope 
of the mountain. 

The girl, as Rob and her fiance helped her up on 
the platform, gave a weary sigh, almost a sob, and 
then, hobbling on her lame ankle, she tried to run up 
the walk to the Tip Top House. The boys followed 
a little more slowly, looking first at the cellar hole 
where the old Summit Hotel used to stand (it was 
burned down in 1908) and where a new hotel will 
have been built before this story is published. 

It was nearly half-past five when they entered the 
long, low room of the Tip Top House, and felt the 
sudden warmth of a wood-fire roaring in a great 
iron stove. 

Dumping their packs in a corner, the boys made for 
this stove, and held out their hands toward the warmth. 

" Gee, it feels good," said Peanut. 

** Feels good on my legs, all right," said Frank. 
" I'm kind o' stiff and tired, I don't mind saying." 

The girl had disappeared. She had already talked 
to her mother at the foot of the mountain by the 
telephone which runs down the railroad trestle, and 
the wife of the proprietor of the Tip Top House had 
taken her up-stairs to put her to bed. 


" I guess she'll sleep all right to-night," said the 
man with the bugle, who had entered with the boys. 

" And she won't tackle the Crawford Bridle Path 
with high heeled shoes on very soon again, either I " 
said Rob. " Are we going to sleep here, too, Mr. 
Rogers ? I don't believe we'll want to sleep outside. 
The thermometer by that window is still down al- 
most to freezing." 

The man with the bugle whispered to them, so the 
proprietor wouldn't hear, " Don't stay here. They'll 
stick you for supper and put you in rooms where 
you can't get any air. The windows are made into 
the roof, and don't open. I got a horrible cold from 
sleeping here last year. Guess they never air the 
bedding. We are all down at the coach house. 
You may have to sleep on the floor, but the window 
will be open, and you can cook your own grub on 
the stove." 

** That's us ! " said Peanut. " Say, we want to get 
some sweet chocolate first, though, and some post- 
cards, don't we ? " 

The Scouts all piled over to the long counter at 
one side of the room, and stocked up with sweet 
chocolate, and also wrote and mailed post-cards, to 
be sent down on the train the next day. The sum- 
mit of Washington in summer is a regular United 
States post-office, and you can have mail delivered 
there, if you want. 


" Be sure you don't scare your families with lund 
accounts of to-day ! '' Mr. Rogers cautioned them. 
" Better save that till you're safe home." 

" Why don't you write out a little account of your 
adventure for Among the Clouds f " said the pro- 
prietor. ** You can have copies sent to your homes, 
if you leave before it comes out." 

" What's Among the Clouds ? " the boys asked. 

He picked up a small eight page newspaper. 
" Printed at the base every day," he said. '* It was 
printed on top here, till the hotel burned. All the 
arrivals at the summit are put in daily." 

•* You write the story, Rob," cried Art. '* When 
will it be printed ? " 

** Make it short, and I can telephone it down for 
to-morrow," the man said. 

** Fine ! We'll all take two copies," said Peanut. 
"Save 'em for us. We'll be around here for two 
or three days. Hooray, we're going to be in the 
paper! " 

" You might all register over there while the story 
is being written," said the proprietor. 

Rob took a pencil and piece of paper and sat 
down by the stove to write, while the rest walked 
over to the register. There were very few entries 
for that day, as you can guess. The top of the page 
(the day before) showed, however, the names of two 
automobile parties, who had written, in large letters 


under their names, the make of the cars they had 
come up the mountain in. 

''Gee, how silly," said Art. 

"Wait," said Peanut, his eyes twinkling, "till / 

He wrote his name last, and under it he printed, 
in big, heavy letters : 

Smith and Jeromes Shoes. 

" There," he cried, " that*s the motor / came up 
in I Good ad. for old Smith and Jerome, eh ? 
Might as well advertise our Southmead store- 

The man with the bugle, who was standing be- 
hind the boys, peeked over at the register, and roared 
with laughter. 

" You're all right, kid ! " he said. " I wish the 
motor parties could see it It would serve 'em right 
for boasting about owning a car. Besides, that's the 
lazy loafer's way of climbing a mountain. If I were 
boss, I'd dynamite the carriage road and the rail- 
road, and then nobody could get here but folks who 
knew how to walk." 

" You're like the man on Moosilauke," said Lou. 

" I'm like all true mountaineers," he answered. 

" And Scouts," said Peanut. 

Rob had now finished a brief account of theif 


adventure on the Crawford Bridle Path, and the 
proprietor went up-stairs to find out the name of 
the man they had rescued. The girl's name they 
already knew. 

"Don't say we rescued them, Rob/' Mr. Rogers 
cautioned. ** Say they overtook us at Monroe, and 
we all went on together, because we had blankets 
and provisions." 

"That's what I have said^' laughed Rob. "But 
it doesn't alter the facts." 

The proprietor came back with the name, and 
Rob added to the man with the bugle, " And the 
names of your party, too ? " 

"Say five trampers," the other answered. "I'll 
tell you our names later. We aren't essential to the 

"But I would like to know why you have the 
bugle," said Rob. 

" I'll tell you that later, also," the man laughed. 

Rob turned his little account over to the proprietor, 
and the party left the warm house, and went out 
again into the cloud and the chilling wind. 

It was almost like stepping out upon the deck of 
a ship in a heavy fog. They could see the board 
walk ahead, as far as the railroad platform — and 
that was all. The rest of the world was blotted out 
The wind was wailing in the telephone wires and 
through the beams of the railroad trestle, just as it 


wails through the rigging of a ship. It was getting 
dark, too. The boys shivered, and nobody sug- 
gested any exploring. 

** Me for supper, and bunk,*' said Peanut. 

They crossed the railroad with its cog rail between 
the two wheel rails, and descended a long flight of 
stepSo At the bottom was the end of the carriage 
road, which they could see disappearing into the 
cloud to the east, a barn on the left, chained down 
to the rocks, and on the right a square, two-story 
building, the carriage house. 

Inside, a lamp was already lighted, and the four 
men who had come down the mountain with the 
bugler, as well as the evident proprietor of the house, 
were sitting about the stove, which was crammed 
with wood and roaring hotly 

"Well?'* said the four, as the Scouts and the 
bugler entered. "Any more people to go down 
and rescue ? " 

The bugler shook his head. " Haven't heard of 
any," he said. "There's no word of any one else 
trying the Crawford Path to-day. Anybody that 
tackled Tuckerman's will certainly have had sense 
enough to stay in the camp. That party who came 
over the Gulf Side this morning with us decided to 
go down the carriage road, they tell me. I guess 
we've got this place to ourselves." 

" Oh, it's a good, soft floor," one of the men 


laughed. " You boys don't mind a good, soft floor, 
do you ? " 

" Not a bit," said Peanut. " I always sleep on the 
floor — prefer it, in fact." 

The others laughed, and the Scouts got ofT their 
packs, spread their blankets out to dry, and took ofi 
their sweaters. 

Then everybody began to prepare for supper. 
The proprietor of the coach house moved out a 
table, and put some boards across it to make it 
larger. The Scouts compared provisions with the 
five trampers, and found that the strangers had 
coffee which the boys were rather shy on, and con- 
densed milk, which the boys didn't have at all, while 
the boys had powdered eggs and dehydrated vege- 
tables, which the strangers didn't have. There wasn't 
time enough, however, to soak the vegetables. 

** You make us coffee, and we'll make you an 
omelet," said Art. "That's a fair swap. I'll cook 
griddle cakes for the bunch.'^ 

" More than fair," said the bugler. " It's taking a 
whole meal from you chaps, while we have more than 
enough coffee. Here, use some of our minced ham 
in that omelet." 

"Just the thing!" said Art "We ate most of 
ours in the shelter." He began at once to mix the 

In a short time the party of eleven (the proprietor 


cooked his supper later) sat down to the rough table, 
with bouillon cube soup first, and then steaming 
coffee, omelet made with minced ham, griddle cakes 
flavored with butter and sugar furnished by the 
proprietor, and sweet chocolate for dessert. 

For a time nobody said much. The men and boys 
were all hungry, and they were busy putting away 
the delicious hot food. 

" Nothing could keep me awake to-night," said 
Peanut, presentiy. '* May I have another cup of 
coffee ? " 

" Who else wants more ? '* asked the bugler, who 
was pouring. 

" Me," said Art. 

" And me," said the bugler. 

" And me," said Mr. Rogers. 

"And me," said one of the men. 

" And I," said Rob, whereupon the rest all burst 
out laughing, and Rob looked surprised, for he 
hadn't intended to rebuke them by using correct 

" You see the advantages of a college education, 
gentlemen," cried Mr. Rogers, while poor Rob turned 

It was a merry meal. After it was over, the five 
men pulled pipes out of their pockets, and puffed 
contentedly, while the boys sat about the stove, and 
Peanut said : 


*' Now, Mr. Bugler, tell us why you have the 

Much to the boys* surprise, the man addressed 

" Gee, you boys will laugh at me ! " he said, like 
a boy himself. " But I'll tell you. I toted this bugle 
up from Randolph yesterday. We came in around 
through the Great Gulf, and up the Six Husbands* 
Trail " 

** Some trail, too I " the other four put in. 

** and back over Adams to the Madison Hut. 

We spent last night there, and came over the Gulf 
Side this morning. We'd reached Clay before the 
bad weather hit us. The summit cone held it back. 
And we got to the carriage road before it got so 
thick that you couldn't see at all. Lord, how the 
wind blew coming around Clay 1 Honestly, I didn't 
know if we could make it." 

** But the bugle?" said Peanut. 

" Oh, yes, the bugle. I was forgetting the bugle, 
wasn't I?" 

"You were — maybe," said Peanut 

The rest laughed. 

"Well, now I'll tell you about the bugle," the 
speaker went on. '* When I was in college a chap 
roomed next to me who could punt a football farther 
than anybody I ever knew " 

** How far ? " asked Art. 


" Well, I've seen him cover seventy yards," was 
the answer. 

•* Some punt 1 " cried Peanut. ** Did that make 
you buy a bugle ? " 

** Say, who's telling the story ? " the man said. 
** No, it didn't make me buy a bugle, but this chap 
who could punt so far bought a cornet. What do 
you suppose he bought a cornet for ? " 

** I can't imagine why anybody should buy a cor- 
net," put in one of the other men. 

" Shut up, Tom," said the bugler. " Well, he 
bought a cornet so he could learn to play it, and 
after he had learned to play it (keeping everybody 
in the dormitory from studying while he learned, 
too I), he spent a summer vacation in the Rocky 
Mountains, and carried that cornet up to the highest 
peaks that he could climb, and played it. He learned 
to play it just for that — ^just for the joy of hearing 
horn music float out into the great spaces of the sky. 
Also, he made echoes with it against the cliffs while 
he was climbing up. After that summer he never 
played it again.'* 

" Why didn't he see how far he could punt a 
football from the top of Pike's Peak?" Peanut 

*• He used up all his breath playing the cornet, 
and couldn't blow up the ball," said the man. 

Lou wasn't taking this story as a joke, however 


" And you brought your bugle up here, to play it 
from the top of Washington ? ^^ he asked. " I think 
that's fine. Gee, I wish you'd go out and play taps 
before we go to bed ! " 

The man looked at Lou keenly. " So you under- 
stand ! " he said. " These Philistines with me don't, 
and your young friend Peanut there doesn't. They 
have no music in their souls, have they ? You and 
I will go outside presently, and play taps to the cir- 
cumambient atmosphere." 

" Some language," snickered Peanut. " What 
we'll need isn't taps, though, but reveille to-mor- 

" Cheer up, you'll get that all right," the man 

They all sat for a while discussing the day's ad- 
venture, and planning for the next day, if it was 
clear. The five men were going down over the Davis 
Path, and as that path leads along Boott Spur, the 
Scouts decided to go with them, leaving them at the 
end of the spur, the Scouts to descend for the night 
into Tuckerman's Ravine, while the others kept on 
southwest, over the Giant's Stairs, to the lower end 
of Crawford Notch. 

" But we want to visit the Lakes of the Clouds 
first," said the Scout Master. ** We scarcely got a 
peep at 'em to-day." 

"Suits us," said the man called Tom. "We'll 


have time, if we start early. I'd like to see the 
Alpine garden myself." 

'* And now for taps," cried the bugler. 

He and Lou got up, and went out-of-doors. The 
rest followed, but the first pair slipped away quickly 
into the cloud, going down the carriage road till the 
lamp of the coach house was invisible. 

The universe was deathly still save for the contin- 
ual moaning of the wind. There was nothing at all 
visible, either stars above, or valley lamps below 
— nothing but a damp, chilly white darkness, Lou 
was silent, awed. The man set his bugle to his lips, 
and blew — blew the sweet, sad, solemn notes of 

As they rose above the moaning of the wind and 
seemed to float off into space, Lou's heart tingled in 
his breast. As the last note died sweedy away, there 
were tears in his eyes — he couldn't say why. But 
something about taps always made him sad, and 
now, in this strange setting up in the clouds, the 
tears actually came. The man saw, and laid a hand 
in silence on his shoulder. 

"You understand," he said, presently, as they 
moved back up the road, and that was all he said. 

Back in the coach house, the proprietor showed 
them all the available cots up-stairs. There were two 
shy, so Art and Peanut insisted on sleeping down- 
stairs by the stove. They wabbed up an extra 


blanket or two for a bed, made their sweaters into 
pillows, and almost before the lamp was blown out, 
they were as fast asleep as if they had been lying on 

Down Tuckerman's Ravine 

BUT while it is comparatively easy to go to sleep 
on the floor, it is not so easy to stay asleep on 
it. Both Art and Peanut awoke more than once 
during the night, and shifted to the other shoulder. 
Finally, toward morning, Art got up and tiptoed to 
the window, to look out. He came back and shook 

" Whaz-a-matter?" said Peanut, sleepily. 

'* Get up, and I'll show you," Art whispered. 

Peanut roused himself, and joined Art at the 

Outside the stars were shining ! But that was not 
all. Art pointed down the carriage road, and far be- 
low, on the black shadow of the mountain Peanut 
saw what looked like bobbing stars fallen to the 
ground. These stars were evidently drawing nearer. 

** Well, what do you make of that ! " he exclaimed. 

" Bless me if I know. It's evidently somebody 
coming up the road with lanterns." 

The two boys slipped noiselessly into their shoes, 
and struck a match to look at their watches. 

** Quarter to four," said Art. " The sun will rise 



in half an hour. Gee, I'd like to get that bugle and 
wake *em up I " 

"The owner's using it himself, I should say," 
whispered Peanut, as the sound of a snore came from 
the room above. They looked about, but the man 
had evidently taken his bugle up-stairs with him, so 
they slipped out through the door to investigate the 
bobbing lanterns coming up the mountain. 

It was cold outside, and still dark, but they could 
make out dimly the track of the carriage road, and 
walked down it. The lanterns were drawing nearer, 
and now they could hear voices. A moment later, 
and they met the lantern bearers, a party of nearly 
a dozen men and women. 

" Hello, boys ! Where did you drop from ? " cried 
the man in the lead, suddenly spying Art and Peanut. 

*' Where did you come up from ? '' Peanut replied. 

** We walked up from the Glen cottage to see the 
sunrise," the other replied. 

" Oh, dear, I should say we did ! " sighed a woman 
in the party. " If you ever catch me climbing a 
mountain again in the middle of the night, send me 
to Matteawan at once." 

" Cheer up, Lizzie, we'll have some sandwiches 
pretty soon," somebody told her. 

** Sandwiches for breakfast ! Worse and worse ! " 
she sighed. " I don't believe there's going to be 
any sunrise, either. I don't see any signs of it." 


" Let's shake this bunch," Art whispered to Pea- 
nut. " They give me a pain." 

The boys ran back, ahead, to the coach house, 
entered once more, and bolted the door behind them, 
lest the new party try to get in. 

" Golly, we've got to get that bugle, and have the 
laugh on whatever his name is — he didn't tell us, did 
he ? I'm going up after it," said Peanut. 

He kicked off his shoes, and started on tiptoe up 
the stairs. Art heard the floor creak overhead, and 
then he heard a smothered laugh. 

A moment later the man appeared with the bugle 
in one hand, and Peanut's ear in the other. Peanut 
was still attached to the ear, and he was trying hard 
not to laugh out loud. 

** Caught you red-handed," said the man. " Hello, 
there, Art I You up too ? How's the weather ? " 

" Fine," said Art. ** Come on out and wake 'em 
all up.'* 

The man looked at his watch, then at the sky 
through the window. The east was already light. 
The stars were paling. You could see out over the 
bare rock heaps of the mountain top. 

'* Come on ! " he said. 

The three went outdoors. The party with 
lanterns had already passed the coach house and 
climbed the steps to the summit. They could be 
heard up there, talking. The man and the boys 


went around to the south of the coach house, out 
of sight of the summit, and setting his bugle to 
his lips, tipping it upward toward the now rosy 
east, the man pealed out the gay, stirring notes of 

*' Oh, do it again ! " cried Peanut. *' Gee, I like it 
up here I I know now why you brought the bugle." 

The man smiled, and blew reveille again. 

Before the last notes had died away, they heard 
stampings in the house behind them, and cries of 
"Can it!" "Say, let a feller sleep, won't you ? " 
" Aw, cut out the music ! " 

" Get up, you stifTs, and see the sun rise ! " shouted 
Peanut. ** Going to be a grand day ! " 

Five minutes later the Scouts and the men were all 
out of the coach house, on the rocks beside Art and 

'* It is a good day, that's a fact," said Mr. Rogers. 
" Where's the best place to see the sun rise ? " 

** Fd suggest the top of the mountain," said the 

It was light now. The east was rosy, and as they 
looked down southward over the piles of bare, 
tumbled rock toward Tuckerman's Ravine, they could 
see masses of white cloud, like cotton batting. Up 
the steps they all hurried, and found the lantern 
party eating sandwiches in the shelter of the Tip Top 
House, out of the wind. 


*' They'd rather eat than see the sun rise," sniffed 

" Maybe you would, if you'd spent the night walk- 
ing up the carriage road," laughed somebody. 

Peanut led the way to the highest rock he could 
find, and they looked out upon the now fast lighten- 
ing world. 

Northward, far out beyond the great shoulders of 
the mountain, they could see glimpses of the lower 
hills and valleys. But all nearer the mountain was 
hidden by the low white cloud beneath their feet. To 
the northeast and east was nothing but cloud, about 
a thousand feet below them. The same was true to 
the south. Southwestward, over the long shoulders 
of the Crawford Bridle Path, where they had climbed 
the day before, lay the same great blanket of white 

*' Say, this peak of Washington looks just like a 
great rock island in the sea," cried Lou. 

Now the world was almost bright as day. The 
east was rosy, the upper sky blue, the stars gone. 
The great white ocean of cloud below them heaved 
and eddied under the gusts of northwest wind which 
swept down from the summit, wherever a wave crest 
rose above the level. The sun, a great red ball, ap- 
peared in the east, and the bugler set his bugle to his 
lips and blew a long blast of welcome. 

It was a wonderful, a beautiful spectacle. As they 


watched, the clouds below them heaved and stirred, 
and seemed to thin out here and there, and suddenly 
to the northeast a second rock island, shaped like a 
pyramid, appeared to rise out of the pink and white 

" Hello, there's Jefferson ! " cried one of the men. 

Then a second island, also a peak of bare rock, 
rose beyond Jefferson. 

'* And there's Adams," said Mr. Rogers. 

" And there's Madison," said the bugler, as a third 
peak rose up from the cloud sea, beyond Adams. 

" What is between those peaks and the shoulder of 
Washington I see running northeast ? " asked Frank. 

" The Great Gulf," one of the men replied. " There 
must have been a heavy dew in the Gulf last night. 
It's packed full of clouds." 

'* Probably got soaked with the rain yesterday, 
too," somebody else said. *' The clouds will get 
out of it before long, though They are coming up 

Even as he spoke, one rose like a long, white fin- 
ger over the head wall of the Gulf, stretched out to 
the gray water-tanks of the railroad and almost be- 
fore any one could speak, it blew cold into the faces 
of the party on the summit. 

" Hello, cloud ! " said Peanut, making a swipe 
with his hand at the white mist. " Does that mean 
bad weather again ? " he added. 


o cr 

S 3 

P p 

o o 




"No, they're just rising from the gulfs. They'll 
blow ofT before we start, I fancy," one of the tramp- 
ers said. " It's the clouds which come down, or 
come from the plains, which make the trouble. 
Come on, breakfast now 1 If we are going to make 
a side trip to the Lakes of the Clouds with you 
Scouts, we've got to get an early start, for our path 
down over the Giant's Stairs is fifteen or twenty 
miles long, and hard to find, in the bargain.'* 

As they went, however, a look away from the sun 
showed the shadow of Washington cast over the 
clouds westward as far as the eye could see. Peanut 
waved his arm. " The shadow of that gesture was 
on the side of Lafayette ! " he cried. 

Breakfast was prepared as quickly as possible, the 
boys furnishing powdered eggs, the men bacon and 
coffee. Then, after they had paid the keeper of the 
coach house for their night's lodging, the combined 
parties shouldered packs, went back up the steps in 
a thin white cloud, stocked up with sweet chocolate 
at the Tip Top House, and still in the cloud set ofiE 
southwest down the summit cone, by the Crawford 
Bridle Path. 

The descent was rapid. The cone is a thousand 
feet high, but they were soon on Bigelow Lawn, and 
though the white mists were still coming up over 
the ridge from the gulfs below, they were thin here^ 
and the sunlight flashed in, and below them they 


could see the green intervale of Bretton Woods, 
shining in full morning light 

"Rather more cheerful than yesterday," said 

" Ra-/>^^r," cried Peanut. 

At the junction of the Boott Spur Trail, every- 
body unloaded all baggage, and the packs and 
blankets were piled under a boulder. Then they 
hurried on down the Bridle Path, past the refuge 
hut which had been such a friend the day before, 
and soon reached the larger of the two Lakes of the 
Clouds, which lies just north of the Crawford Trail, 
on the very edge of the Monroe- Washington col, 
exactly two miles below the summit. The larger 
lake is perhaps half an acre in extent, the smaller 
hardly a third of that size. 

** These lakes are the highest east of the Rocky 
Mountains," said Mr. Rogers. "They are 5,053 
feet above sea level." 

"And a deer has been drinking in this one," said 
Art, pointing to a hoof mark in the soft, deep moss 
at the margin. 

" Sure enough ! " one of the men said. " He 
must have come up from timber line, probably over 
from Oakes Gulf." 

"You remember, boys," Mr. Rogers said, *'that 
I told you I was going to show you the head waters 
of a river ? Well, we saw one at the Crawford House 


— the head of the Saco. This lake is one of the head 
waters of the Ammonoosuc, which is the biggest 
northern tributary of the Connecticut." 

**It's a bit cleaner than the Connecticut is at 
Hartford or Springfield," laughed Rob. •* My, it's 
like pure glass I Look, you can see every stick and 
piece of mica on the bottom." 

** And it's cold, too ! " cried Art, as he dipped his 
hand in. 

*' Now, let*s look at the Alpine wild flowers as we 
go back," said the bugler. " They are what inter- 
est me most." 

The party turned toward the path again, and they 
became aware that almost every crevice between the 
loose stones was full of rich moss of many kinds, and 
this moss had made bits of peaty soil in which the 
wild flowers grew. There were even a few dwarfed 
spruces, three or four feet high, all around the border 
of the lake. 

The wild flowers were now in full bloom. 

*' It^s spring up here, you know, in early July," 
said the bugler. " Look at all those white sandwort 
blossoms, like a snow-storm. What pretty little 
things they are, like tiny white cups." 

** What's the yellow one?" asked Lou, who was 
always interested in plants. 

' That's the geum," the man replied. " Look at 
the root leaves — they are just like kidneys." 


** It's everywhere," said Lou. " Look, it even 
grows in cracks half-way up the rocks." 

The man also pointed out the tiny stars of the 
Houstonia, which interested the boys, because their 
Massachusetts home was near the Housatonic River. 
But the botanist assured them that there was no con- 
nection between the names, the flower being named 
for a botanist named Houston, while the river's name 
is Indian. 

There were several other kinds of flowers here, 
too, as well as grasses, and conspicuous among them 
was the Indian poke, sticking up its tall stalk three 
feet in the boggy hollows between rocks, its roots in 
the wet tundra moss, with yellowish-green blossoms 
at the top. 

'' Well, who'd ever guess so many things could 
live way up here, on the rocks I " Lou exclaimed. 
** But I like the little sandwort best. That's the one 
which gets nearest the top of Washington, isn't it?" 

" It's the only one which gets there, except the 
grass, I believe," the bugler answered. 

Everybody picked a few sandwort cups, and 
stuck them in his hat band or buttonhole, and thus 
arrayed they reached once more the junction of 
the Boott Spur Trail, shouldered packs, and set off 
southward, down the long, rocky shoulder of the 
spur, which pushes out from the base of the summit 


The sun was now high. The clouds had stopped 
coming up over the head walls of the ravines. They 
could see for miles, even to the blue ramparts of 
Lafayette and Moosilauke in the west and southwest. 
Directly south they looked over a billowing sea of 
mountains and green, forest-covered valleys, a 
wilderness in which there was no sign of human 
beings. To their left was the deep hole of Tucker- 
man's Ravine, gouged out of the solid rock. Only 
the very summit of Washington behind them still 
wore a hood of white vapor. 

It was only three-quarters of a mile to the nose of 
the spur, and they were soon there. Here the two 
parties were to divide, the boys going down to the 
left into the yawning hole of Tuckerman's Ravine, 
which they could now see plainly, directly below 
them, the other trampers turning to the southwest, 
for their long descent over the Davis Path and the 
Montalban range. At the nose of the spur was a big 
cairn, and out of it the bugler fished an Appalachian 
Mountain Club cylinder, opened it, and disclosed 
the register, upon which they all wrote their names. 
Then they all shook hands, the bugler blew a long 
blast on his bugle, and the Scouts watched their 
friends of the night go striding off down the Davis 

" Now, where do we go ? *^ asked Arto 

Mr. Rogers pointed down into Tuckerman*s 


Ravine, the wooded floor of which, sheltering the 
dark mirror of Hermit Lake, lay over fifteen hundred 
feet below them. 

** Golly, Where's your parachute ? " said Peanut. 

" We don't need a parachute," Mr. Rogers laughed. 
•* Here's the path." 

The boys looked over into the pit. Across the 
ravine rose another precipitous wall, with a lump at 
the end called the Lion's Head. The ravine itself 
was like a long, narrow horseshoe cut into the rocky 
side of Mount Washington — a horseshoe more than 
a thousand feet deep. They were on one side of the 
open end. 

*' Well, here goes I " cried Peanut, and he began 
to descend. 

At first the trail went down over a series of levels, 
or steps, close to the edge of the precipice. At one 
point this precipice seemed actually to hang out over 
the gulf below, and it seemed as if they could throw 
a stone into Hermit Lake. 

Peanut tried it, in fact, but the stone sailed out, 
descended, and disappeared, as if under the wall. 

" These are the hanging cliffs," said Mr. Rogers. 
*' We'll go down faster soon." 

Presently the path did swing back to the left, and 
began to drop right down the cliff side. The cliff 
wall wasn't quite so steep as it had looked from 
above, and the path was perfectly possible for travel ; 


but it was the steepest thing they had tackled yet, 
nonetheless, and it kept them so busy dropping down 
the thousand feet or more to the ravine floor that they 
could barely take time to glance at the great, white 
mass of snow packed into the semi-shadow under 
the head wall 

** Say, we are making some time, though 1 " Pea- 
nut panted, as he dropped his own length from one 
rock to the next. 

" Faster 'n you'd make coming back," laughed Lou. 

The path soon dropped them into scrub spruce, 
which had climbed up the ravine side to meet them, 
and this stiff spruce grew taller and taller as they 
descended, till in less than fifteen minutes they were 
once more — for the first time since leaving the side 
of Clinton — in the woods. At the bottom of the cliff 
the path leveled out, crossed a brook twice, and 
brought them suddenly into another trail, leading up 
into the head of the ravine. Almost opposite was a 
sign pointing down another path to the Appalachian 
Mountain Club camp. 

'* We'll leave our stuff there at the camp," said Mr, 
Rogers, " and go see the snow arch before lunch, eh ?" 

" You bet ! " the boys cried. 

It was only a few minutes after ten. They had 
started so early from the summit of Washington that 
they still had the better part of the day before them. 
A few steps brought them to the camp, which was a 


log and bark lean-to, with the back and sides en- 
closed, built facing the six or eight foot straight side 
of a huge boulder. This boulder side was black with 
the smoke of many fires. It was no more than four 
feet away from the front of the lean-to, so that a big 
hre, built against it, would throw back a lot of warmth 
right into the shelter. All about the hut were beau- 
tiful thick evergreens. 

" That's a fine idea ! " Art exclaimed. '* You not 
only have your fire handy, and sheltered completely 
from the wind, but you get the full heat of it. Say, 
we must build a camp just like this when we get 
back ! " 

** Somebody was here last night," said Rob, in- 
specting the ashes in the stone fire pit. ** Look, they 
are still wet. Soused their fire, all right." 

" And left a bed of boughs — for two," added Pea- 
nut, peeping into the shelter. 

'* Let's leave our stuff, so we'll have first call on 
the cabin to-night," somebody else put in. " Will it 
be safe, though ? " 

** Sure," the Scout Master said — ** safe from peo- 
ple, anyhow. The folks who tramp up here are hon- 
est, I guess. But I don't trust the hedgehogs too 
far. The last time I slept in Tuckerman's, five or 
six years ago, two of us camped out on the shore of 
Hermit Lake, and the hedgehogs ate holes in our 
rubber ponchos while we slept." 


" Say, you must have slept hard — and done some 
dreaming!" laughed Peanut. 

" Fact," said Mr. Rogers ; " cross my heart, hope 
to die I" 

•*Well, then let's hang our blankets over this 
string," said Art, indicating a stout cord strung near 
the roof from the two sides of the shelter. 

They hung their blankets over the cord, stacked 
their packs in a corner, and set off up the trail toward 
the head wall of the ravine, nearly a mile away. 

A few steps brought them to a sight of Hermit 
Lake, a pretty little sheet of water which looked al- 
most black, it was so shallow and clear, with dark 
leaf-mould forming the bottom. It was entirely sur- 
rounded by the dark spires of the mountain spruces, 
and held their reflections like a mirror, and behind 
them the reflections of the great rocky walls of the 
ravine sides, and then the blue of the sky. 

The path now began to ascend the inclined floor 
of the ravine, and the full grandeur of the spectacle 
burst upon the boys. Even Peanut was silent. It 
was the most impressive spot they had ever been in. 

To their left the cliffs shot up a thousand feet to 
Boott Spur, to their right they went up almost as 
high to the Lion's Head. And directly in front of 
them, curved in a semicircle, like the wall of a sta- 
dium, and carved out of the solid rock of the moun- 
tain, was the great head wall, in the half shadow at 


its base a huge snow-bank glimmering white, on the 
tenth day of July. Above the snow-bank the rocks 
glistened and sparkled with hundreds of tiny water 
streams. All about, at the feet of the clifls, and even 
down the floor of the ravine to the boys, lay piled up 
in wild confusion great heaps of rock masses, the 
debris hurled down from the precipitous walls by 
centuries of frost and storm. 

" It looks like a gigantic natural colosseum," said 
Lou. " The head wall is curved just like the pictures 
of the Colosseum in our Roman history." 

" Right-o," cried Peanut. *' Say, what a place to 
stage a gladiator fight, eh? Sit your audience all 
up on the debris at the bottoms of the cliffs." 

** And have your gladiators come out from under 
the snow arch," laughed Mr. Rogers. 

"Sure," said Peanut. 

They now came to the snow arch, which is formed 
every June under the head wall, and sometimes lasts 
as late as August. The winter storms, from the 
northwest, blow the snow over Bigelow Lawn above, 
and pack it down into Tuckerman's Ravine, in a 
huge drift two hundred feet deep. This drift grad- 
ually melts down, packs into something pretty close 
to ice, and the water trickling from the cliff behind 
joins into a brook beneath it and hollows out an 

The Scouts now stood before the drift. It was per- 


haps eight or ten feet deep at the front now, and a good 
deal deeper at the back. It was something Hke three 
hundred feet wide, they reckoned, and extended out 
from the cliff from sixty to a hundred feet. The arch 
was about in the centre, and the brook was flowing 
out from beneath it. 

** Look ! " cried Art, " a few rods down-stream the 
alders are all in leaf, nearer they are just coming 
out, and here by the edge they are hardly budded 1 '^ 

** That's right," said Lou. " I suppose as the ice 
melts back, spring comes to 'em.'* 

Rob put his hand in the brook. " Gee, I don't 
blame 'em," he said ; " it's free ice water, all right." 

" Come on into the ice cave," Peanut exclaimed, 
starting forward. 

Mr. Rogers grabbed him. " No, you don't ! " he 
cried. *' People used to do that, till one day some 
years ago it caved in, and killed a boy under it. 
You'll just look in." 

Peanut poked at the edge of the roof with his 
staff. It looked like snow, but it was hard as ice. 
" Gee, that won't cave in ! " said he. 

"Just the same, we're taking no chances," said 
the Scout Master. 

So the Scouts tried to content themselves with 
peeking into the cold, crystal cave, out of which 
came the tinkle of dripping water from the dangling 
icicles on the roof, and a breath of damp, chilling 


air. It was like standing at the door of a huge 

Then they climbed up the path a few steps, on the 
right of the drift, and made snowballs with the 
brittle, mushy moraine-stufi on the surface, which 
was quite dirty, with moss and rock dust blown over 
from the top of Washington. 

" Snowballs in July ! " cried Peanut, letting one 
fly at Art, who had walked out on the drift. 

Art retaliated by washing Peanut's face. 

It was getting close to noon now, and the party 
started back to camp. Hermit Lake was first in- 
spected as a possible swimming pool, but given up 
because of the boggy nature of the shores. Instead, 
everybody took one chill plunge in the ice water of 
the little river which came down from the snow arch, 
and then they rubbed themselves to a pink glow-, 
and started for the camp. Before they reached 
camp, Art sniffed, and said, ** Smoke ! Somebody's 
got a fire." 

A second later, they heard voices, and came upon 
two men, building a fire against the boulder in front 
of the shelter. 

** Hello, boys. This your stuff ? " one of the men 
said. He was a tall, thin man, with colored goggles 
and a pointed beard. The other man was short and 

" Sure is," Peanut answered. 


'* Well, we're going on after lunch. Won't bother 
you to-night," the men said. ** Don't mind our 
being here for lunch, do you ? " 

** Depends on what you've got to eat," said Pea- 
nut, with a laugh. 

*• Not much," the tall man answered. " Enough 
for two men, but not enough for a huge person like 

Peanut grinned, as the laugh was on him, and the 
boys set about getting their lunch ready, also. 

The two newcomers had come up from Jackson 
that morning, they said, and were bound for the top 
of Washington via the head wall of Huntington 
Ravine. They spoke as if the head wall of Hunting- 
ton were something not lightly to be tackled, and of 
course the boys were curious at once. 

** Where's Huntington ? " asked Art. '* Mr. Rog- 
ers, you've never told us about that." 

** I never was there myself," said Mr. Rogers. ** I 
can't have been everywhere, you know." 

*' Well, neither have I been there," said the tall, 
thin man, " but my friend here has, once, and he 
alleges that it's the best climb in the White Moun- 

" Hooray, let us go, too ! " cried Peanut. 

Mr. Rogers smiled. " We'll go along with these 
gentlemen, if they don't mind, and have a look at 
it," he said, ** but I guess we'll leave the climbing to 


them. I don't believe I want to lug any of you boys 
home on a stretcher. '^ 

" Aw, stretcher nothin^ 1 " said Peanut. *' I guess 
if other folks climb there, we can ! " 

The short, stout man's eyes twinkled. " Maybe 
when you see it you won't be so keen," he said. 
" Come along with us and have a look." 


Up the Huntington Head Wall 

LUNCHEON over, the two men packed their 
knapsacks again, while Art put some dehy- 
drated spinach in a pot to soak for supper. He 
covered the pot carefully, and stood it in the ashes 
of the fire, where it would get the heat from the 
rock, even though the fire was put out. Then falling 
into line behind the two men, the boys and Mr. 
Rogers started off, apparently going backward away 
from the mountain down the path toward Crystal 
Cascades and the Glen road, 

"We just came up here,'* the tall man said, 
" Came out of our way a bit to see the shelter camp, 
as I want to build one like it near my home." 

" So do we," said the Scouts. 

The two men walked very fast, so that the boys 
had hard work to keep up with them. They were 
evidently trained mountain climbers. After half a 
mile of descent, they swung to the left, by the Ray- 
mond Path, and after a quarter of a mile of travel 
toward the northeast, they swung still again to the 
left, up the Huntington Ravine Trail, and headed 



back almost directly at right angles, toward the 
northwest, where the cone of Washington was, 
though it could not be seen. The path now ascended 
again, rather rapidly, and the Scouts puffed along 
behind the tall man and his stout companion, who 
walked just about as fast up-hill as they did down. 

" Say ! " called Peanut, *' is there a fire in the 
ravine ? " 

The tall man laughed. *' Sure/' he said. ** Four 

A mile or more of climbing brought them into the 
ravine. It was not so large as Tuckerman's, and it 
had no lake embosomed in its rocky depths, but in 
some ways it was an even wilder and more impress- 
ive spot. On the right, to the east, the clifF wall 
rose up much steeper than in Tuckerman's, to 
Nelson's Crag. On the west, also, the wall was al- 
most perpendicular, while the jagged and uneven 
head wall, which did not form the beautiful amphi- 
theatre curve of Tuckerman's head wall, and had no 
snow arch at its base, looked far harder to climb. 

** Wow 1 '' said Peanut. " You win. I don't want 
to climb here=" 

** Why, it's easy. You can climb where other 
folks have," said the stout man, with a wink. ** Folks 
have climbed all three of these cliffs." 

" That one to the left ? " asked Peanut 

" Sure," said the man. 


" What with, an aeroplane ? " 

" With hobnail boots," said the other. 

" I guess they had pretty good teeth and finger 
nails, also," Frank put in. 

A half mile more, and the trail ended at a great 
mass of debris and broken rocks piled up in the shape 
of a fan at the base of the head wall. 

*'This is called the Fan," said the stout man. 
" Here's where the job begins. Goodbye, boys." 

" Oh, let's go up a way 1 " cried Art. ** If they can 
do it, we can." 

" Sure," said Peanut, as he saw the two men begin 
to climb carefully over the broken fragments of the 

" Oh, please ! " the rest cried. 

" Well, just a short way," Mr. Rogers reluctantly 
consented, *' if you'll agree to come down when I 
give the order. We have no ropes, and we are none 
of us used to rock climbing. I won't take the risk. 
If we had ropes and proper spiked staffs, it would be 

The Scouts, with a shout, started up behind the 
two men, who had now ceased their rapid walking, 
and were going very slowly and carefully. The 
boys soon found out why. The footing on the rocky 
debris of the Fan was extremely treacherous, and you 
had to keep your eyes on every step, and test your 


About fifty yards before the top of the Fan was 
reached, the two climbers ahead turned to the right, 
and made their way along a shelf on the ledge which 
they called a " lead," toward a patch of scrub. One 
by one, the boys followed them, using extreme cau- 
tion on the narrow shelf. At the patch of scrub, they 
could look on up the head wall, and see that the mass 
of rocks which made the Fan had been brought down 
by frost and water in a landslide from the top, and 
made a gully all the way to the summit. To climb 
the wall, you had to use this gully. It looked quite 
hopeless, but the stout man started right up, the tall 
man following him, zigzagging from one lead, or 
shelf, to another. The boys followed. 

** Gee," said Peanut, " wish it hadn't rained so 
lately. These rocks are slippery. And I don't like 
walking with the ground in my face all the time." 

** I think it's fun," said Art. 

'* Me, too," said Frank. '' But I don't Hke to look 
back, though." 

They followed two or three leads up the gully, till 
they were perhaps a hundred or a hundred and fifty 
feet above the floor of the ravine below. Then Mr. 
Rogers, looking up, saw Peanut, in the lead, looking 
about for the next lead, and, after finding it, trying 
with his short legs to straddle the gap between it 
and the spot where he stood. His foot slipped, and 
if Art hadn't been firmly braced right behind him, so 


that he threw his shoulder under, Peanut would have 
fallen off. 

** Here's where we stop ! " said the Scout 

Peanut was rather white with the sudden shock of 
slipping. Still, he looked longingly up the gully, 
toward the two climbers above, and said, ** Aw, no, 
let's go on a little further ! " 

** Not a step — remember your promise," Mr. 
Rogers declared. 

The boys turned reluctantly, and started down. 
They found it far harder than going up. Going up, 
you didn't see that almost sheer drop below you. 
But going the other way, you had to see it at every 
step, and it made you constantly realize how easy it 
would be to fall. 

Lou grew very pale, and paused on a wide bit of 
shelf. " I'm dizzy," he said. *• Let me stand here a 
minute. I can't help it. Makes me dizzy to look 

Frank was directly in front of him below. 

" You keep braced after every step, Frank," said 
the Scout Master, '* and let Lou take his next step to 
you each time before you take another. Better now, 
Lou ? You'll be all right. Just keep your eye on 
your feet, and don't look off.'^ 

They started down once more, and after at least 
fifteen minutes reached the Fan in safety and then 


the floor of the ravine. Lou sat down immediately 
looking, as Peanut said, " some seasick." 

" I guess I was never cut out for rock climbing," 
poor Lou declared. " I wouldn't have gone, and 
worried you, Mr. Rogers, if I'd known it would make 
me dizzy like that." 

** You'd probably get used to it," the Scout Master 
answered, '* but I guess we'll not experiment any 
more just now, where there's no path. Look, our 
friends are almost up." 

The boys, who had forgotten the two men, turned 
and saw them far above, working carefully toward 
the summit of the wall. They shouted, and waved 
their hats, and the men waved back, though the 
Scouts could hear no voices. 

" Gee, and folks have climbed those side walls, 
too, eh ? " said Peanut. ** Believe me, real mountain 
cUmbing is some work ! " 

" It is, surely," Mr. Rogers saidc *' But in the 
Alps, of course, people go roped together, and if 
one falls, the rest brace and the rope holds him. 
How would you like to climb that gully if it was 
all ice and snow instead of rock, and you had to 
cut steps all the way with an ice ax, for ten thousand 
feet ? " 

"Say, there'd have to be a pretty big pile of 
twenty dollar gold pieces waiting at the top," an- 
swered Peanut 


" Oh, get out," said Art. " That isn't what makes 
folks climb such places. It's the fun of getting 
where nobody ever got before — ^just saying, * You 
old cliff, you can't stump me 1 ' isn't it, Mr. 

" About that, I guess," the Scout Master replied. 
** There's some fascination about mountain climbing 
which makes men risk their lives at it all over the 
globe, every year, on cliffs beside which this one 
would look like a canoe beside the Mauretania. I'm 
glad we've had a taste of real climbing this after- 
noon, anyhow, to see what it's like. Look, the 
men have reached the top, and are waving good- 

The boys waved back, and as the men disappeared 
from sight, they themselves moved slowly down the 
trail, toward the Raymond Path, looking up with a 
new respect at the walls on either side, and specu- 
lating how they could be climbed. Consulting the 
Appalachian Mountain Club guide book, they found 
no description of how to get up the west wall, but 
the ascent of the eastern wall, to Nelson's Crag, 
which was called **the most interesting rock climb 
in the White Mountains," was described briefly. 
The Scouts easily identified the gully up which the 
ascent must be made, but nobody seemed very eager 
to make it. 

" No. sir," said Peanut, " not for me, till I've had 


more practice on cliff work, and have bigger hob- 
nails in my shoes, and can keep right on up." 

** Still," said Frank, " people who go up places 
like that in the Alps have to come down again." 

" Sure they do," Peanut replied, " but they're 
used to it. The older I grow, the more I realize 
it doesn't pay to tackle a job till you're up to it." 

" Hear Grandpa talk ! " laughed Frank. " You'd 
think he was fifty-three." 

"He's talking horse sense, though," the Scout 
Master put in. " When we get home, we'll go over 
to the cliffs on Monument Mountain some day, with 
a rope, and get some practice. As a matter of fact, 
those cliffs, though they are only two hundred feet 
high, are steeper than these here, and you haven*t 
any gully to go up, either. We'll get some Alpine 
work right at home." 

''I'll stay at the bottom, and catch you when you 
fall off," said Lou, with a rather crooked smile. 
" Gee, to think I'd go dizzy like a girl 1 " 

** Forget it, Lou," Peanut cheered him. " 'Twasn't 
your fault, any more'n getting seasick." 

The afternoon shadows were all across Tucker- 
man's Ravine when the boys once more reached the 
camp. It was not yet five o'clock, and out behind 
them the green summits of Carter and Wildcat and 
Moriah across the Glen, and all the peaks to the 
south and east, were bathed in full sunlight ; but 


down in the great hole of the ravine the shadow of 
Boott Spur had risen half-way up the east wall 
toward the Lion's Head, and it seemed like twilight. 

** Makes me want supper," Frank laughed. 

" I got an idea," said Peanut. " Let's take a loaf. 
Let's just sit around the camp-fire till supper, and do 

'* Let's cut our mileage on our staffs," said Art. 

'* Hooray ! " 

Somebody lit the fire, for already the twilight 
chill was creeping down from the snow-bank, and 
Art put the pot of dehydrated spinach on to simmer. 
Then everybody got out his knife and cut mileage. 

" Only nine miles for yesterday I " said Art. " And 
think of the work we did." 

** One mile against that hurricane is about equal to 
fifteen on the level, I guess," said Peanut. " Shall 
we call it eight plus fifteen ? " 

" You can, if you want to be a nature fakir," Rob 
answered. ** What's the total to-day ? Who's got 
the guide book?" 

'* Let's see," said Frank, turning the pages. " Two 
miles from the summit to the Lakes of the Clouds, 
half a mile back to Boott Spur Trail, from the junction 
with the Crawford Path over the spur to here, two 
and a half miles — that's five. Then from here to the 
snow arch and back, one and a half — six and a half. 
Then a quarter of a mile to Raymond Path, half a 


mile to Huntington Trail, two miles to the Fan ; 
double it and you get five miles and a half. That 
makes twelve miles, not counting our climb of the 
head wall, or what we'll do later to-day." 

" Guess we'll not do much more," said Peanut. 

" Sure, we'll walk up the ravine and see the snow 
arch by moonlight. Add a mile and a half more," 
said Art. *' Grand total, thirteen and a half. Golly, 
you can get fairly tired doing thirteen miles on Mount 
Washington, can't you ? " 

'* And tolerably hungry," said Frank. " That 
spinach smells good to me." 

<< We're going to have bacon, and an omelet, and 
spinach, and tea, and flapjacks," said Art. *' Doesn't 
that sound good ? " 

" Well, go ahead and get 'em ready," Peanut 
said, flopping backward upon the old hemlock 
boughs in the shelter, and immediately closing his 

Nobody did nor said much for the next hour. 
There came one of those lazy lulls which hit you once 
in so often when you are tramping, and you just 
naturally lie back and take life easy, half asleep, half 
awake. It was half- past five, and getting dusky in 
the ravine, when suddenly a hermit thrush in the firs 
right behind the cabin emitted a peal of song, so 
startling in its nearness and beauty that every one of 
the six dozers roused with a start. 


" Say, that's some Caruso I " exclaimed Peanutc 
He rubbed his eyes, and added, " What's the mat- 
ter with you, Art? Where's supper? You're 
fired I '' 

Art laughed, and jumped out of the shelter, giving 
orders as he went. 

"Water, Lou. Rob and Frank, more wood. 
Peanut, you lazy stiff, get out the bacon and light 
the lantern. Mr, Rogers, more boughs for the 

" Yes, sir," the others laughed, as they scattered 
quickly on their errands. 

It was dark when supper was ready, and outside 
of the cozy shelter of the cabin and the great boulder 
facing it, with the fire burning briskly, it was cold. 
The boys had all put on their sweaters. But the 
boulder threw the warmth of the fire back under the 
lean-to, and they sat along the edge of it, their 
plates on their laps, the fragrance of new steeped tea 
in their nostrils, and of sizzling bacon, and made a 
meal which tasted like ambrosia. The spinach was 
an especial luxury, for this time it had soaked long 
enough to be soft and palatable. Their only regret 
was that Art hadn't cooked more of it. 

" Let's soak some over night, and have it for 
breakfast," Peanut suggested, amid hoots of derision 
from the rest. 

'' We'll have fresh bread, though," said Art. ** Vm 


going to bake some in a tin box somebody has left 
here in a corner of the hut." 

" How'll you make bread without yeast ? " asked 

Art produced a little sack of baking powder from 
his pack. " With this, and powdered milk, and 
powdered egg^'' he answered. " You make me up a 
good fire of coals, and V\l show you." 

He mixed the dough while the rest were clearing 
up the supper things, greased his tin box (after it 
had been thoroughly washed with boiling water) 
with bacon fat, and put the dough in to rise. " FU 
leave it half an hour to raise," he said, ** and go with 
you fellows up to see the snow arch. Then I've got 
to come back and bake it." 

It was moonlight when they set out for the head of 
the ravine, but the light was not strong enough to 
make the path easy, nor to take away the sense of 
gigantic black shadows towering up where the walls 
ought to be. Peanut tried shouting, to get an echo, 
but his voice sounded so small and foolish in this 
great, yawning hole of shadows in the mountainside, 
that he grinned rather sheepishly, and shut up. 

The " baby glacier," as Rob called the snow-drift, 
was like a white shadow at the foot of the head wall. 
They could hear the brook tinkling beneath it, but 
not so loud as by day. When the sun goes down, 
the melting stops to a very considerable extent. 


And it was very cold near the icy bank. The boys 
shivered, and turned back toward camp. 

" We'll go with you, Art, and see you bake that 
bread," said Rob. 

But they didn't. While Art went on, the rest 
made a side trip in to Hermit Lake, to see the 
reflections of the moon and stars in the glassy water. 
Not one, but a dozen hermit thrushes were singing 
now in the thickets of fir. It was lonesome, and 
cold, but very beautiful here, and the bird songs rang 
out like fairy clarions. 

"This is as lonely as the Lake of the Dismal 
Swamp," Rob remarked, ** and as beautiful." 

** It's a heap sight colder, though," said Peanut 

Back in camp, they found Art with his tin of bread 
dough propped on edge in front of a great bed 
of coals, with coals banked behind it and on the 
sides. The others kicked ofi their shoes and stock- 
ings, put on their heavy night socks, rolled up in 
their blankets under the lean-to, and, propped upon 
their elbows, watched Art tending his bread, while 
they talked in low tones. 

One by one the voices died away to silence. 
Finally Rob and Mr. Rogers were the only ones 
awake. Then Mr. Rogers asked Rob a question, 
and got no answer. He smiled. 

** Well, Art," he said, " all the rest seem to think 


you can get that bread baked without their help. I 
guess I can trust you, too. Good-night." 

" Good-night," said Art. " They^l be glad to eat 
it in the morning, though I " 

But Mr. Rogers didn't reply. 


The Giant's Bedclothes 

EVERYBODY was awake early the next morn- 
ing, and glad to get up, for Tuckerman's 
Ravine can be very cold, even in mid- July, and all 
the boys had huddled together unconsciously in the 
night, for mutual warmth. Art's suggestion that 
they take a morning dip in the waters of the Cutler 
River wasn't hailed with much enthusiasm. 

" You know, it doesn't get exactly warm in the 
mile between here and where it comes out of the 
snow arch," said Frank, with a shiver. 

" I want a bath, all right," said Peanut, " but I 
don't want a refrigerator for a bathroom and ice 
water in the tub. I'm no polar bear. Let's wait till 
we get to some other brook." 

" Gee, you're a set of cold-foot Scouts ! " Art 

" And we don't want 'em any colder," laughed 

"Why AoVityou go for a bath, Art?" asked Rob. 

** It's no fun all alone," Art replied, rather sheep- 
ishly, while the rest laughed. 



The sun was not yet up as they got breakfast 
ready, and the valley behind them and the ravine 
ahead were full of white mist. Only the rocky 
pinnacle of the Lion's Head to their right, and the 
clifis of Boott Spur to the left stood up above the 
vapor. The cofiee smelled good in the cold air, and 
Peanut toasted a great piece of Art's bread, and 
varied his breakfast by making himself scrambled 
eggs on toast as a special treat. They broke camp 
as the sun was rising, and by the time they had 
climbed into the floor of the ravine the shadow of 
the Lion's Head was beginning to climb down the 
cliffs of Boott Spur, and in Pinkham Notch behind 
them they could see the billows of white mist tossing 
and stirring, Lou said exactly as if a giant was sleep- 
ing underneath, and tossing his bedclothes. 

** That's how Winthrop Packard, the bird expert, 
once described it," said Mr. Rogers. 

When they reached the snow arch, the path swung 
to the right, and ascended a pile of debris which had 
come down from the clifis above. When the path 
had surmounted the arch, it turned to the left, and 
passed under the overhanging cliffs at the top of the 
head wall. It was very steep and rough, and at one 
point was covered with snow, or, rather, snow packed 
into ice. Here the going was extremely treacherous, 
and the party moved slowly, with the utmost cau- 
tion, using the staffs on every step. But they got 


past without accident, and soon found themselves at 
the top of the wall. At the top was a long sloping 
"lawn,'* leading to the summit cone, the "lawn" 
consisting of grasses and flowers and moss be- 
tween the gray stones. They were in full morning 
sunlight for a few moments, and every stone on the 
summit pyramid stood out sharp against the sky. 
But all the world below them, except the tops of the 
surrounding mountains, was buried under the white 

** Above the clouds ! " cried Peanut. 

** But not for long," said Art. " Lou's giant is 
picking up his bedclothes and coming after us ! " 

Sure enough, as they looked back, they saw the 
white mist rising from Pinkham Notch, sucking in 
through Tuckerman's Ravine, and seeming to follow 
them up the path. Already a wisp was curling over 
Boott Spur and drifting slowly across the lawn. 

" Ding it I " cried Peanut, " is it never clear on 
this old mountain? Vm getting so I hate clouds. 
This path is none too easy to find as it is." 

" Well, let's keep ahead of the giant, then," Mr 
Rogers said. 

They walked on more rapidly, noting that the wind 
was actually from the north, a gentle breeze, just 
strong enough to hold the rising vapors back and 
let them keep ahead. Presently their path crossed 
a dim trail which seemed to come from Boott Spur 


and lead northeastward toward the Chandler Ridge. 
It was the Six Husbands* Trail. 

" Hooray, here's old Six Husbands/' cried Peanut. 
** I sure want to go over it, and also know where it 
got its name." 

** Where does it go to, anyhow ? " somebody else 

They stopped for a moment to trace the trail on 
the map, finding that it started at Boott Spur, skirted 
the cone of Washington on the south and east, 
dipped into the bottom of the Great Gulf, and as- 
cended the shoulder of Jefferson, ending on the peak 
of that mountain. 

" The last two miles up Jefferson must be some 
climb I " Art cried, looking at the contour intervals — 
" right up like the wall of a house I " 

" Let's take it I " shouted Peanut. 

** Perhaps we can take it, out of the Gulf," Mr. 
Rogers answered. " But now we've got to get to 
the Tip Top House. Don't you want your copies of 
Adoz>e the Clouds ? " 

" Gosh, I'd forgotten them," said Peanut. 

They resumed the climb, and were soon traveling 
more slowly, up the steep summit cone. They could 
not see the top, and they could see nothing below 
them because of the following mists. The path was 
merely a dim trail amid the wild, piled up confusion 
of broken rocks. Before they reached the end of it 


too. the clouds had reached them, and they made the 
last few hundred yards enveloped in the giant's bed- 

*' Bet he was damp in 'em, too," said Pea- 

The coach house and barn burst upon them sud- 
denly, out of the fog. 

The boys rushed at once up the steps to the Tip 
Top House, secured their copies of Above the Clouds ^ 
and read Rob's account of the storm, which the ed- 
itor had cut down till it was only half what Rob had 
written, much to everybody's indignation. While 
they were reading the paper, buying sweet chocolate 
and sending post-cards home, the clouds thinned out 
on the summit, and when, at eight o'clock, they 
again stepped out-of-doors, there seemed to be every 
prospect of a splendid day, with a gentle northerly 
wind to cool the air. 

'' Now, our objective point is the Madison Hut, 
over there to the northeast at the base of the summit 
cone of Madison," said Mr. Rogers. ** We'll spend 
the night in the hut, and go down the next day to 
Randolph, through King's Ravine, and catch a train 
home. There are two ways of getting there. One 
is to go over the Gulf Side Trail, along the summit 
ridge of the north peaks, the other, and much the 
harder way, is to descend into the Great Gulf and 
climb up again, either by the Six Husbands' Trail, 


the Adams Slide Trail, or the trail up Madison from 
the Glen House.'* 

*' Me for old Six Husbands ! " cried Peanut. 

" I want to go along the tops/* said Lou, " where 
you can see off all the time." 

" So do I," said Frank. 

" I'm for Peanut and the Six Husbands," said Art. 

" Suppose we split for the day," Rob suggested. 
" ril go with one half, and you go with the other, 
Mr. Rogers." 

The Scout Master looked at the sky and the hori- 
zon. The day held every promise of fine weather, 
and he assented. " All right," he said, ** I'll take 
Lou and Frank over the north peaks, and you take 
the others down the head wall of the Gulf, past 
Spaulding Lake and the Gulf camp, to the Six Hus- 
bands' Trail, and then come directly up that to the 
Gulf Side Trail near the cone of Jefferson. When 
you reach the Gulf Side Trail, if the weather is clear, 
leave your packs by the path, and go on up to the 
top of Jefferson and signal to us. We'll be waiting 
on the top of Adams, at four o'clock. If it's not 
clear, come right along the Gulf Side to the hut." 

** Hooray ! Signaling from one mountain peak 
to another ! That's going some ! " cried Peanut. 

*' But why wait till four?" asked Art. *' Accord- 
ing to the map, we haven't more than eight miles to 
go, half of it down-hill." 


Mr. Rogers smiled, *' WeUl leave it at four 
o^ clock, though," he answered. '* If you think you 
can beat that schedule, all right. Maybe we'll be on 
Adams earlier.'' 

The party now went down the steps to the car- 
riage road, and swung along down that for a quarter 
of a mile. Then they turned off to the left by the 
Gulf Side Trail, and walking over the rough stones 
with grass between drew near the head wall of the 
Great Gulf. Soon they were at it. The Great Gulf 
is a gigantic ravine between the huge eastern shoul- 
der of Mount Washington, called the Chandler 
Ridge, and the three northern peaks of Madison, 
Adams and Jefferson. Mount Clay, the fourth of 
the north peaks, and the one next to Washing- 
ton, is almost a part of the head wall of the Gulf. 
The Gulf sides are very precipitous, and as the boys 
looked across it to the shoulder of Jefferson, where 
the Six Husbands' Trail ascends, Lou and Frank 
began to laugh. 

*' Glad we haven't got to climb that to-day ! " they 

''Lazy stiffs," said Peanut. "What's that! A 
mere nothing ! " But he grinned dubiously, even as 
he spoke. 

** Well, we're in for it now," said Rob, '* so come 

" Oh, I'm coming," Peanut replied. 


" Now, Rob, one last word," said the Scout Master. 
" Fm giving you the map. Follow the trails agreed 
on, and promise me not to leave 'em, even for a 
dozen feet. You are entering unknown country, and 
dangerous country. Go straight down past the Gulf 
camp, and you'll pick up the Six Husbands about a 
quarter of a mile below — maybe less. Goodbye. 
Signal, if clear, when you get to Jefferson. If worst 
comes to worst, go back to the Gulf camp, or if you 
are on the range, go to the shelter hut just east of 
Jefferson, on the Adams- Jefferson col." 

Mr. Rogers, Lou and Frank waved their hands as 
they watched the other three plunge over the edge 
of the head wall, and begin to descend the two thou- 
sand feet of precipitous rock pile which dropped down 
to where Spaulding Lake lay like a mirror amid the 
trees at the bottom of the Great Gulf. Then they 
shouldered packs again, and set out toward the three 
summits of Clay, just ahead of them, the first stage 
of their journey over the north peaks to the Madison 
Hut. The morning was clear and fine now, and they 
could see for miles upon miles out over green valleys 
and far blue mountains, while the rocky pyramids of 
Jefferson, Adams and Madison ahead of them, rising 
about five hundred feet above the connecting cols, 
seemed near enough, almost, to hit with a stone, 
though actually the nearest, Jefferson, was two miles 


** We've got nearly all day for a six mile hike," the 
Scout Master said. '* Let*s take it easy and enjoy 
the view." 

So we will leave them climbing slowly up the slope 
of Clay, and descend the Gulf with Rob, Art and 


With Rob, Art and Peanut Into the Great 


ROB, Art and Peanut were making time down 
the head wall, but they were also using up shoe 
leather, for the wall of the Great Gulf is composed 
of innumerable loose stones, often of a shaly nature, 
with sharp edges, which turn under the foot. The 
head wall trail, too, because of its steepness, is not 
so much used as many others, and at times the 
Scouts had some difficulty in keeping it. It grew 
warmer as they descended out of the breeze into the 
still air of the Gulf, and, as Peanut said, his forehead 
was starting another brook. They reached timber 
line in a short time, and before long were in the 
woods beside Spaulding Lake, where in spite of the 
leaf-mould on the bottom they paused long enough 
to strip and have a quick bath in the cold water, 
which was, however, warm by contrast with some of 
the brooks they had tried. Then they resumed the 
trail down the floor of the Gulf, beside the head 
waters of the Peabody River. The path was rough, 
full of roots and wet places, and it descended con- 



stantly, with waterfalls beside it, and through open- 
ings in the trees here and there glimpses of the great 
cliff walls of Jefferson and Adams to the left. The 
thrushes were singing all about them, and they came 
upon several deer tracks, and once upon the mark of 
a beards paw in the mud. They kept looking, too, 
for the Gulf camp, but it did not appear. 

" Say, this old trail is longer than I thought,^' said 
Peanut, " or else there isn^t any Gulf camp." 

At last, however, after nearly an hour's tramping 
from Spaulding Lake, they saw smoke through the 
trees ahead, and came upon the camp, which was a 
lean-to like that in Tuckerman's, with the opening 
placed close up against the perpendicular wall of a 
big boulder, to throw the heat of the fire back into 
the shelter. 

Two young men, badly in need of shaves, were 
cooking breakfast. 

'* Hello, Scouts," they said, 

" Lunching early, aren't you?" asked Rob. 

The men laughed. " This is breakfast," they said. 
" We decided to-day to have a good sleep, and we 
did, all right — thirteen hours ! Came over Craw- 
ford's and down the head wall yesterday. Going 
out to Carter's Notch to-day. Where are you 

" We are bound up the Six Husbands to the Madi' 
son Hut," the boys answered. 


The two men whistled. " Well, good luck to you," 
they said. " But glad we're not going with you ! " 

" Why ? " Peanut demanded. 

" Because it goes right up the shoulder of Jeffer- 
son. Have you seen the shoulder of Jefferson ? " 

•' Sure," said Art. " What of it ? " 

** Well, if you had to work as hard as that, you'd 
make an awful fuss ! " one of the men laughed. 

" You talk just like my father," said Peanut. 
** Why is it called the Six Husbands' Trail — if you 
know so much about it?" he added. 

" Search me," the man replied, *' unless because 
it would take six husbands to get a woman up 

The boys laughed, and went on their way. They 
soon came to the trail itself, and struck up the Six 
Husbands at last, headed directly for the cliffs of 
Jefferson and Adams, which seemed to be towering 
over their heads. 

" It does look like a job, and no mistake 1 " cried 

*' Well, if somebody can put a trail up it, we can 
follow 'em, I guess," cried Art. " This is something 
like mountain climbing ! " 

But for half a mile the trail didn't ascend much. 
It followed up a brook, and seemed to be headed for 
the ravine between Adams and Jefferson. Presently 
they came to a fork in the trail, where the Adams 


Slide Trail branched off to the east. Here there was 
a spring, labeled Great Spring on the map, where 
they filled their canteens, and taking the left fork, 
the Six Husbands, began at last the real ascent of 
Jefferson. There was no longer any doubt about its 
being an ascent, either. The map showed that from 
the Great Spring to the crossing of the Gulf Side 
Trail at the summit cone of the mountain was little 
over a mile, but that mile, as Peanut said, was stood 
up on end. They plugged away for a while, toiling 
upward, weighted down with their packs and blan- 
kets, which had increased in weight at least fifty per 
cent, since morning, and then decided to eat lunch 
before the fuel gave out. 

It was hard work chopping up fire-wood from the 
tough, aged, and gnarled stumps of the dwarf spruces 
which alone could grow on this cliff side, but they 
got a blaze at last, and made tea and cooked some 
bacon — the last they had. It was one o'clock be- 
fore they were through, and Rob, seeing that Peanut 
was pretty tired and Art pretty sleepy, ordered a 
rest for an hour. They spread out their blankets 
and lay down, in a spot where there was the least 
danger of rolling off, and soon the two younger boys 
were fast asleep. 

Rob didn't go to sleep. He watched an eagle 
sailing on still wings out over the Gulf, and pres- 
ently, to his consternation, he saw a thin wisp of 


vapor curling around the ridges far above on 
Adams. Southwestward, the slopes of Washington 
were clear, but there was surely cloud coming above 
them, and they on a little used trail, without Mr. 
Rogers ! Rob's heart went suddenly down into his 
boots, and he felt a cold sweat come. Then he 
pulled himself together. 

" Fool ! " he half whispered. " If we keep on up, 
we are bound to hit the Gulf Side Trail. And didn't 
Mr. Rogers say that if you kept cool you were much 
better off? Brace up, old Scout !^' 

He waited till his heart had stopped thumping, 
and then he waked the other two. 

"We've got to be climbing again," he said; 
" there's a cloud coming over Adams." 

"Say, there's always a cloud coming, seems to 
me," said Peanut. " Well, come on then. Gee, I 
was having a good sleep ! " 

The three boys rolled up their blankets, and re- 
sumed the trail, first taking a good look at the map 
and fixing the compass direction. The clouds were 
now plainly visible above them, both around the 
tops of Adams, Madison and JeflFerson, and evidendy 
over on Clay, too. But behind them, across the 
Gulf, Chandler Ridge was in clear sun, and they 
could see a motor car going up the carriage road, 
and even hear a faint cough from its exhaust. 

"This is no storm, it's evidently just a wandering 


cloud/* said Rob. "But we'd better make all the 
distance we can in clear going," 

They toiled upward for a full hour, almost hand 
over hand in places, with the cloud still above them 
and the Gulf clear below, before they got into the 
under curtain of the vapor, and began to have 
trouble in finding the trail. They were feeling 
their way cautiously, compasses in hand, when sud- 
denly Art, who was leading, uttered a cry, and 
pointed to the unmistakable cross path of the Gulf 
Side Trail, carefully maintained and worn by many 
feet. There was a sign, too. 

" Hooray ! Here we are ! Can't miss that trail ! " 
yelled Peanut, his feeling of relief escaping in a 
shout which used up all the breath left in his lungs. 

There was, to the amazement of the Scouts, an 
answering shout from somewhere southwest of them, 
coming out of the fog — a faint call which sounded 
like" Help r^ 


First Aid in the Clouds ! 

"*¥ ^THATS that?" all three exclaimed. 

VV Facing in the direction whence the sound 
seemed to come, they put their hands around their 
mouths, and shouted together, " Hoo-oo 1 " 

Again there was a faint reply. 

" It's down the Gulf Side Trail, and a bit west I " 
cried Art. " Come on ! '* 

" Easy ! " cried Rob. " We don*t want to go 
rushing off the trail this way, or we^l be lost, too. 
Here, let's go south on the Gulf Side, until the 
shouts are directly west of us» and then strike in 
toward 'em. Keep yelling as we go." 

The answering halloo grew nearer as they moved 
south on the Gulf Side, and presently it seemed 
quite close, to the west. The boys struck off toward 
it, over what seemed almost like a rocky pasture 
there was so much mountain grass at this spot, and 
in a hundred yards or so they came upon a man 
and two women, one of the latter seated on the 
ground moaning, her face pale with pain, while the 
other was rubbing her ankle. 



** Thank God I " said the man, as the Scouts ap- 

** But they're only boys ! " added the woman who 
was not hurt, her face clouding with disappointment. 
She looked as if she had been crying. 

The injured woman, however, said nothing. Rob 
took one look at her, and saw that she was fainting. 
He caught her just in time to keep her from falling 
backward upon the rocks. 

" Here, hold her ! " he said brusquely to the man, 
while he unslung his pack and fished for the aromatic 
spirits of ammoniac 

She came to in a moment. 

" Lost ? *' asked Rob. 

" We were walking from Washington to the 
Madison Hut," the man answered, *'and this cloud 
came, and we lost the path coming down Mount 
Clay. Are we far from it now? We have been 
wandering blindly, getting more and more con- 
fused, and finally this lady sprained her ankle." 

" She ought to have high boots on, not low 
shoes," said Rob ; ** especially a woman of her 

" Get me down the mountain somehow," the in- 
jured woman moaned. " Til never come on a trip 
like this again ! " 

" We can't carry her far," said Art, bluntly, '* she's 
too heavy. " We'll have to get help." 


" Let's get her to the trail," Rob suggested, " and 
then one of us will have to go for help. What's 
nearer, Washington or the Madison Hut ? Look at 
the map, Art." 

" We must be on the edge of the Monticello Lawn 
on the south shoulder of Jefferson," Art replied. 
"It's about an even break, but it's nearer to Adams, 
where our crowd is waiting for us." 

" Well, we'll get her to the path, and decide," Rob 
said. " Stretcher I " 

The boys made a stretcher with their coats and 
staffs, and Rob and the man took the ends, while 
the woman, who was large and heavy, was helped 
up, groaning with pain, and sat on it. It was quite 
all they could do to carry her, and the poles sagged 
dangerously. Art went ahead with the compass, 
walking almost due east, and they reached the Gulf 
Side Trail and lowered the stretcher. 

" Now," said Rob, " two of us had better go for 
help to Adams. Art, you and I will, I guess. Pea- 
nut, you wait here and make the lady as comfort- 
able as you can in our blankets." 

" Hold on ! " Peanut cried. " See, the cloud is 
breaking up ! Maybe we can signal. That would 
be quicker." 

The clouds were surely breaking. They didn't so 
much lift as suddenly begin to blow off, under the 
pressure of a wind which was springing up. The 


top of Jefferson was visible through a rift even as 
the party watched, and presently a shaft of sunlight 
hit them, and the whole upper cone of Jefferson was 
revealed, a pyramidal pile of bare, broken stone. 

**Give me the staffs and two towels," Peanut 
cried. *' I'll have help here in half an hour ! " 

Rob went with him, and the two Scouts, forgetting 
how weary they were, began almost to run up the 
five hundred feet of the summit cone, without any 
path, scrambling over the great stones without 
thought of bruised shins. 

When they reached the peak, the clouds were en- 
tirely off the range — they had disappeared as if by 
magic — and the sharp cone of Adams to the north- 
east, almost two miles away in an air line, was 
plainly visible. As they stood on the highest rock, 
a flash of light sprang at them from the other 

" Hooray ! " Peanut cried, *' theyVe there ! They're 
flashing a mirror at us I" 

" More likely the bottom of a tin plate," said Rob. 
**Where'd they get a mirror? Out with your 
signals ! " 

Peanut tied a white towel to the end of each staff, 
and standing as high on the topmost rock as he 
could, held them out. Against the blue sky, on the 
peak of Adams, the two boys saw two tiny white 
specks break out in answer. They were so far away 


that it was very hard to follow them, to keep the two 

" Oh, for a pair of field-glasses ! " Rob cried. ** Do 
you think they can get us ? " 

*• If we can get them, they can," Peanut answered. 
*' Here goes ! '' 

*' Woman hurt, bring help. Gulf Side," he sig- 
naled, very slowly. 

They both watched, breathless, for the answer, 
but it was impossible to make out whether they 
were understood or not. 

" Here, you take one flag, and stand up here ; 
you're taller," Peanut said, jumping off the rock. 
** rU stand below you. That'll separate the two 
more. Now, again ! " 

Very slowly, holding each letter a long time, and 
running a few steps to left or right with their flags, 
they signaled once more, the same message. 

This time they saw the answering flags change 
position. " Good old Lou, he's done the same 
trick," Peanut cried. " Look, I can read it now ! '' 

" I can't," said Rob. 

"Well, I can G-o-t-y-o-u ! Got you!" 

Peanut shouted. '* They'll be here ! How long 
will it take 'em?" 

" Oh, half an hour, I should say," Rob answered. 
'* Come back, now. Maybe the woman has fainted 


" Gee, why do people try to climb mountains when 
they don't know how ? " said Peanut, as they 
descended again toward the little group of figures 
below them. 

" Help is coming ! " they cried, as they drew near. 

" Well, you boys were certainly sent by Provi- 
dence ! " the man exclaimed. 

They all made the injured woman as comfortable 
as they could while they waited. There was still a 
little water left in the Scouts' canteens, and they made 
a cold bandage around her ankle, which Rob decided 
was not broken. Then there was nothing to do but 
sit and wait. It seemed hours, though it was really 
less than thirty minutes, when over the east shoulder 
of Jefferson, where the Gulf Side Trail skirts the pre- 
cipitous wall down into the Great Gulf, came the 
rescue party, almost on the run — Mr. Rogers, Frank, 
Lou, and four men. 

One of these men, it speedily turned out, was a 
doctor, and he took charge at once, while Rob 
watched him admiringly, for Rob was going to be a 
doctor, too. He felt of the injured ankle carefully, 
while the patient winced with pain. 

'* No broken bones," he said, " just a bad sprain. 
You should wear stout, high boots for such work, 

(" Just what we told her," Art whispered.) 

"And now," the doctor added, "she's got to be 


carried to the nearest point on the railroad. Jim, 
you start along now to the summit house, and tele- 
phone down for a train to be sent up immediately. 
We'll get her to the track at the point where the 
West Side Trail crosses, just below the Gulf 

" How far is it ? " asked the Scouts. 

" Two miles,'' the doctor answered, " but we can 
do it all right. You boys have done enough to-day. 
We are going that way anyhow, and you are going 
the other." 

"Couldn't we take her to the Madison Hut?'* 
asked Frank. 

" That would be a great help I " the doctor said. 
** How would we get her down the mountain from 
there ? " 

" I hadn't thought of that," said Frank. 

Meanwhile, one of the four men had picked up his 
pack again and was striding rapidly down the trail 
toward Clay, headed for Mount Washington and the 
telephone. The other three trampers, and the man 
who had been lost with the women, made a new 
stretcher of their staffs and coats, put the woman on 
it, and started after him. 

The Scouts begged to help, but the doctor said 

** Twice a day over the Gulf Side is enough for 
boys of your age/' he declared. " We can get on all 


right You go back to the hut — and take it easy, 

The man and both the women who had been 
rescued said goodbye to Peanut, Rob and Art over 
and over, shaking their hands till the boys grew em- 

" Heaven knows what would have become of us if 
they hadn't heard our shout ! " the uninjured woman 
exclaimed, again close to tears. " We were lost, and 
Bessie was hurt, and we'd have perished I " 

" Not so bad as that," the doctor said, with a 
smile, *• because the cloud cleared, and you'd have 
found the path, and we four would have come by just 
the same." 

Peanut's face clouded. He had thought of him- 
self and his two companions as rescuers, and here the 
doctor was proving that if they hadn't done it, some- 
body else would I The doctor evidently guessed his 
thoughts, for he added : 

" That's not taking away any credit from these 
Scouts, though. If we hadn't happened to be headed 
for Washington you would undoubtedly have been in 
bad trouble, and if the cloud had lasted longer, you 
might have been in for a night on the mountain with- 
out shelter, and that never did anybody any good. 
Pretty good work for the boys, I think I " 

Peanut looked happy again, and the two parties 
shouted gooc^bye to each other, as those with the 


stretcher moved down the trail toward the distant 
railroad trestle, and the Scouts moved northward, 
toward the Madison Hut. 

Then Peanut suddenly realized that he was tired. 
He was more than tired — he could just about drag 
one foot after the other. Art was not much fresher, 
and even Rob said if anybody should ask him to run 
fifty yards, he'd shoot 'em. 

They passed the Six Husbands' Trail, swung around 
north of Jefferson onto the knife-blade col between 
that mountain and Adams, passing Dingmaul Rock, 
a strange shaped boulder called after a mountain 
animal which is never seen except by guides when 
they have been having a drop too much. Peanut 
laughed at this, but he grew sober and silent again 
when it was passed, and when the trail swung to the 
left of Adams, rising over the slope between Adams 
and the lesser western spur called Sam Adams, he 
didn't even grin when somebody suggested that they 
climb Adams, which is 5,805 feet, the second highest 
mountain in New England. 

" Go to thunder," was his only comment. 

Once they had toiled up the slope, however, they 
looked down-hill all the way to the Madison Hut, and 
in thirty minutes they had crossed the Adams-Madi- 
son col and reached the stone hut tucked into the 
rocks at the base of the cone of Madison, the last 
peak of the Presidential range. 


With one accord, packs and blankets were dropped 
off weary shoulders to the ground, and the three 
Scouts who had been into the Gulf that day flopped 
down on top of them, and lay there exhausted. The 
other three had already been to the hut and left their 

** Well, I guess youVe had enough husbands for 
one day, eh ? " said the Scout Master. '* And you'd 
better not lie there, either. Come on, inside with 
you, and lie in your bunks/^ 


Peanut Learns Where the Six Husbands* 
Trail Got Its Name 

IT was, in truth, getting cold on the mountain, and 
the wind was freshening as the sun set. They 
moved wearily into the hut, and found three tiers of 
bunks inside, like a ship's cabin, and a stove giving 
out pleasant heat, and the caretaker getting supper 

"No cooking to-night,** said the Scout Master. 
"You three climb up and lie down till supper is 

Rob, Art and Peanut made no objection to this 
order, and soon, from their bunks, they were dis- 
cussing the day*s adventures with the other three. 

" We had a wonderful day ! '* said Lou and Frank. 
" We climbed every one, of the north peaks except 
Madison — Clay, Jefferson and Adams — and we got 
almost to the hut here before the cloud came. Gee, 
what views ! We kept looking down into the Gulf 
for you, but we never saw you. It was lots of fun 
climbing back up Adams in the cloud.** 

"Well, we had some day ourselves, believe me 



Judge ! " said Peanut. '* We had a swim in Spauld- 
ing Lake, and a long hike in the woods down at the 
bottom of the Gulf, and then the Six Husbands* 
Trail. Say, that's a trail I " 

" My pack weighed a hundred and twenty-nine 
pounds before we got to the top,'' Art added. 

" And then, when we saw the clouds above us, we 
hurried, too," Rob said, "so we could reach the 
Gulf Side path before they closed down too far, and 
that took our wind." 

" And then Peanut let out a Comanche yell when 
we did strike the Gulf Side," put in Art, " with all 
the wind he had left " 

" Which wasn't much," said Peanut. 

" and out of the cloud, off southwest some- 
where we suddenly heard a faint call for * Help ! ' 
It sounded awfully strange, kind of weird-like, way 
up there in the clouds." 

"Wonder if they've got the woman down by 
now ? " said Frank. 

" Lucky that doctor and the other three men were 
hiking along here," Lou put in, " or we'd have had 
to carry her to the railroad and then walk way back 
over the whole Gulf Side Trail again." 

" Not me," said Peanut. " I'd have kissed the 
mountains good-night, and got aboard the train 

" Where did you strike those four ? " asked Rob. 


" They were at the hut when we first got there at 
two o'clock, waiting for the cloud to break," said 
Mr. Rogers. " They came up Adams with us to see 
you fellows signal, for they said the cloud wouldn't 
last long. Good trampers, they were, on their an- 
nual vacation up here. They know every path like 
a book." 

The Scouts were discussing signaling and its 
uses, and Rob was saying that it made him tired to 
hear people say the Scouts were taught to be war- 
like, when signaling had proved so valuable that 
very day as a means of saving life in peace, instead 
of taking it in war — when steps were heard outside 
the hut, and a second later two men stood in the 

" Hello, any room?" they said. 

" Come in," said the caretaker. 

The two men entered. They were rather elderly 
men, or at least middle aged, with gray hair ; but 
both of them were tanned and rugged, the type you 
learn to recognize as the real trampers on the White 
Mountain trails. They made themselves at home at 
once, tossing their small packs into a corner. They 
had no blankets, but both of them carried botanical 
specimen cases. 

" Where from ? " asked Mr. Rogers. 

** Jackson," they said. ** We came up Tucker- 
man's yesterday to the Tip Top House, and spent 


this morning getting specimens on Bigelow Lawn. 
We've just come over the Gulf Side." 

" Did you meet four men carrying an injured 
woman?" the boys asked. 

" Carrying her where ? " 

" To the train." 

•* They were taking her along the West Side Trail, 
from Monticello Lawn, where she sprained her 
ankle," Mr. Rogers added. "One of them went 
ahead to the summit to telephone." 

*'Oh, that explains it!" the two strangers said. 
** We met him just as we were turning out of the 
carriage road into the trail. He was going about 
ten miles an hour. And when we got up on Jeffer- 
son, we saw a train climbing the trestle, and won- 
dered why." 

" Hooray, she's safe ! " shouted Peanut. " Bet she 
never tries to climb in low shoes again, though." 

Supper was now served, and the combined parties 
sat down to it. The boys told the newcomers of 
their day's adventures, and Peanut suddenly shot 
out, " Say ! Can you tell me why it's called the Six 
Husbands' Trail?" 

One of the men laughed. "I surely can," he 

"Well, for Heaven's sake, do, then," Rob said. 
" He'll never be happy till he knows." 

'' You came down the head wall of the Gulf, you 


say ? " the man asked. ** Well, did you notice the 
first waterfall you came to after you reached the 
bottom of the wall and started down toward the 
Gulf camp ? " 

"Gee, there was nothing but waterfalls/' said 

** Exactly, but there are some real falls on the 
trail, though, and some which are only rapids. 
Anyhow, the upper fall was named in the summer 
of 1908, by Warren W. Hart, a Boston lawyer who 
cut the trail up to the head wall. Weetamo Fall, he 
called it, in honor of Queen Weetamo, the sister-in- 
law of the famous Indian chief, King Philip. Maybe 
you boys know all about her ? " 

*' Know about King Philip," said Peanut, " but 
can't say I'm intimate with his sister-in-law.'* 

** That's a pity," said the man, "because she was 
a fine woman. Her husband. King Philip's older 
brother, Alexander (or Wamsutta) was also a chief. 
After he died, Weetamo married again, several 
times, each time seeking to bind the New England 
tribes into a stronger alliance. Some say she 
married three times, some say five or more. Mr. 
Hart, when he cut the new trail you boys came up 
this afternoon, decided to give the lady a liberal 
allowance, so he made it six. The Six Husbands' 
Trail is named in honor of the husbands of Weetamo, 
the Indian chieftainess." 


" There, Peanut, now you know ! " laughed Art. 

" I like it, too," Peanut declared. *' I don't see 
why more of these mountains and places aren't 
named after Indians, or with Indian names, like 
Moosilauke and Pemigewassett and Ammonoosuc. 
Why should this mountain be called Madison, for 
instance ? He didn't discover it, or even ever see it, 

'* Who did discover the White Mountains, by the 
way ?" asked Rob. " I never thought of that before." 

The same man who had answered before again 
replied. He seemed to know all about these hills. 
" Mount Washington, which was named in the first 
years of Washington's administration, when all sorts 
of things were being named for him, was the first 
mountain climbed in the United States," he said. 
" Darby Field accomplished it in 1642, after a trip 
of exploration in from the coast, through the then 
vrackless forest. The only account of the trip is in 
Governor John Winthrop's journal, which you'll find 
in your public library, or it ought to be there, if it 
isn't. Field was accompanied by two Indians. It 
took them eighteen days to get here and back. At 
the foot of the ascent was an Indian village, but 
these Indians dared accompany him no nearer the 
top than eight miles, as they never climbed moun- 
tains. His own two Indians went on with him. 
From the fact that his ascent was, he says, for the 


last twelve miles over bare rocks, he evidently came 
up over the southern ridges somewhere, possibly the 
Giant's Stairs and Boott Spur. The north peaks 
were not explored and named till 1820, less than a 
hundred years ago. Lafayette, over in Franconia, 
was not climbed till 1826." 

"But weren't there any Indian names for these 
mountains ? " Peanut persisted. 

" They called the whole Presidential range, or 
perhaps the whole White Mountains by the name 
Agiocochook," the man answered. "I'm afraid my 
knowledge ceases there. Our forefathers didn't 
make any special effort to learn what the Indians did 
call things, or to respect their names any more than 
their lands. Certainly we've done badly in our 
naming. Clay, for instance, and Franklin, were 
never Presidents, yet their names are given to two 
peaks in the Presidential range ; and Mount Pleasant 
isn't even named after a statesman. I agree with 
our young friend here, and like better the names 
of the Sandwich range to the south, Chocorua, 
Passaconaway, Bald Face. Those are either Indian 
names, or are suggestive of the appearance of the 

" Right-o," said Peanut. 

It was now dark outside, and clear and cold. 
The Scouts went out into the windy starlight, and 
looked far down into the valley to the north, where 


the lights of a small town glittered, and filled their 
lungs with the bracing, fresh air. Then they one 
and all turned in, and though the two new arrivals 
were talking with the caretaker of the hut, it wasn't 
five minutes before all six were fast asleep. 


Through King's Ravine and Home Again 

ART was not the first one up in the morning. 
When he opened his eyes, he saw the care- 
taker of the hut moving about the stove. Nobody 
else was astir in the Scouts' party, but through the 
open door Art saw the two men who had arrived the 
previous evening standing on the rocks, looking off. 
It was full daylight I 

Art climbed hastily down out of his bunk and 
shook Peanut. 

** Lemme 'lone ! I got to climb this rock ! " said 

** What do you think you're doing ? You've got 
to get up ! " laughed Art. 

" Whaz 'at ? " said Peanut. Then he opened his 
eyes, stared into Art's face, and added, *' Hello ! 
Why, I'm awake 1 " 

Meanwhile, the others had waked, also. Rob 
looked at his watch. ** Six o'clock ! " he exclaimed. 
'' That's what comes of sleeping in bunks. All up, 
and have a look at the weather ! " 

The weather seemed propitious. The north peaks 


were all out, and the great shoulder of Chandler 
Ridge on Washington, across the white mists which 
filled the Great Gulf, looked like a stone peninsula 
thrusting out into a foamy sea. There was only a 
slight wind, and the sun was pleasantly warm al- 

"How's the grub holding out?" asked Mr. 
Rogers. ** If we have breakfast cooked for us in- 
side, it will cost us something. Have we enough 
left for breakfast and lunch? We'll have to get 
supper on the train." 

'' Train ! Gee whiz, I don't want to go home I 
Let's stay another week," said Frank. 

"That's the talk!" Peanut cried. "Let's go 
down in the Great Gulf and get some trout, and 
live on them." 

" I'll shoot a bear with a bow and arrow," Art 
added. " We'll need the meat, too, for we've not 
got more than enough for one good meal — except 
vegetables. We've got a lot of spinach left, 'cause 
we've hardly ever stayed anywhere long enough to 
soak it, unless we'd had it for breakfast." 

Peanut fished in his rear pocket and produced his 
purse. " I've got enough to buy breakfast, if the 
caretaker'll sell us any, and a sleeper home," he 
announced. " Golly, though, where's my return 
ticket ! " 

He began searching wildly in all his pockets, 


while the others investigated their pocketbooks, to 
see if they had their tickets. Peanut finally dashed 
back into the hut, and discovered his in his pack. 
The tickets were from Fabyans, however, and as 
they would reach the railroad at Randolph, some 
miles east, there would be a small extra fare. All 
the boys had money enough left for the trip, and for 
breakfast as well. 

*' I'll shout you all to supper on the train," said 
Mr. Rogers. " Let's save all our grub for a whack- 
ing big farewell luncheon in King's Ravine, and buy 
breakfast here, eh ? " 

** You're on," the Scouts replied, and they has- 
tened back into the hut, where the two men joined 
them. The caretaker finally agreed to give the boys 
breakfast out of his own stores, though he didn't 
seem very keen about it. Usually, he only cooks 
meals for visitors at the hut when they provide the 

" How do you get the food up here ? " Peanut 
asked him. 

" The birds bring it," he said. 

** You think you're Joshua, don't you?" Peanut 

" Why ? " asked the man, looking puzzled. 

"'Cause he was fed by the ravens. Wake up 
and hear the birdies," Peanut laughed. " Now will 
you tell me ? " 


The man grunted, and made no reply. 

('* I suppose he has to pack it up from Randolph," 
one of the men whispered. " It*s no cinch, either.'') 

Breakfast over, the boys paid fifty cents each for 
their night's lodging, and a dollar and a half for 
cooking dinner and the breakfast. Then they set 
out for the summit of Madison, before descending to 
the railroad. The sharp cone of Madison rose di- 
rectly behind the hut. Indeed, you could step from 
the roof of the hut in the rear out onto the rocks. 
It was only a twenty minute climb, without packs, 
for the hut is 4,828 feet above the sea, and Madison, 
the last of the Presidentials, is only 5,380. From the 
top they had their last high prospect, and they drank 
it in to the full. Eastward, they looked out over the 
ravine of the Peabody River to the timbered slopes 
of the Moriahs and Carter's Dome, another group of 
mountains which lured their feet. Beyond them was 
the state of Maine. Southward, over the Great Gulf, 
was Chandler Ridge, with the Chandler River leap- 
ing down its steep side, like a ribbon of silver. 
Southwestward lay the bare stone pyramids of 
Adams and the two lesser Adamses (Jefferson was 
hidden) and finally the great bulk of Washington to 
the left of Clay, lying high above them all, far off 
against the blue sky. Due west, they looked down 
into the yawning hole of King's Ravine. It was a 
mighty prospect of bare rocks piled more than a 


mile in air, of great gulfs between them, of far green 
valleys and far blue hills. 

** Oh, I like the mountains ! " cried Lou. " I want 
to come to the mountains every year I I want to 
stand up under the sky and see off — way off, like this ! " 

" That goes for me, too, even if I can't say it so 
pretty," declared Peanut. 

Reluctantly, they descended from the cone, picked 
up their packs at the hut, and with Peanut throwing 
back a final " Goodbye, Josh," to the caretaker, they 
hit the Gulf Side Trail for a scant quarter of a mile, 
swung off of it to the right, and stood presently in a 
kind of gateway of great stones, with the world drop- 
ping out of sight between the posts. 

" Look back ! " said Mr. Rogers. 

They turned. Behind them, framed by the huge 
stones of the natural gate, rose the cone of Madison 
against the blue sky — that and nothing else. 

** Goodbye, Maddie," said Peanut. 

"Au revoir," said Lou. "See you again next 
summer, maybe ! '* 

They turned once more, and at once began to 
drop down the head wall of King's Ravine, a ravine 
almost as fine as Tuckerman's, discovered and ex- 
plored by the Reverend Thomas Starr King in 1857 
and named after him. 

*' Say, this trail has the Six Husbands' guessing," 
said Art. 


"Glad I'm not going up," said Frank. 

** Well, nothing is steep to me after the head wall 
of Huntington," Lou said. '* I can see something 
under my feet here, at any rate." 

The descent was rapid, for they dropped 1,300 
feet in the five-sixteenths of a mile to the floor of 
the ravine, which means an ascent of 4,160 feet to 
the mile. Anybody good at mathematics can reckon 
out what this angle is. The boys estimated it 
roughly as they were descending at about seventy 
degrees. Nobody had time to figure it on paper, 
however, and when they got to the bottom, there 
was too much else to see. Anyhow, it was steep 
going I 

They found the bottom of the ravine strewn with 
great boulders which had fallen down from the cliffs 
on three sides. Some of them were as big as houses, 
and in a cave under one they found ice. Two paths 
led down the ravine, one over the boulders called 
"Elevated Route for Rapid Transit," the other "The 

The guide book said the latter took longer but 
was more interesting. 

" The Subway for us I " cried Peanut. 

So they took the Subway, and though it was not 
a second Lost River, this path took them by a tor- 
tuous route through several caves, and under many 
an overhanging boulder, where the air was chill and 


there were strange echoes. Again, at the lower end 
of the ravine, they descended rapidly for half a mile 
by a steep way, into the woods again at last, and 
finally stopped by a brook for the farewell lunch. 

The last of the powdered eggs, spinach soaked 
and boiled as long as they dared wait, till it wasn't 
too tough to eat, the last of the bacon from Lou's 
and Mr. Rogers' packs, a single small flapjack apiece, 
a quarter cake of sweet chocolate for each, and tea, 
completed the repast. After it was over, they care- 
fully burned all the wrapping paper and Art blazed 
a tree and printed on the fresh wood, " Farewell 
Camp," and the date. Then under it they all wrote 
their names. 

It was less than two miles from this point out to 
the railroad and for the first time in many days they 
were walking on almost level ground. Before long, 
the woods opened, and they came out on the mead- 
ows of Randolph. Across a field in front of them 
lay the railroad track and the tiny station. They 
dropped packs on the platform and turned to look 
at the mountains. Only the north peaks were visi- 
ble — Madison, Adams and Jefferson — three pyra- 
mids against the sky. 

" Golly, how funny it feels to be down on the level 
again ! " said Peanut. 

** And how far away they look ! Think, we were 
up there only this morning ! " said Frank. 


" And how small our hills will look when we get 
home," said Lou. 

** Well, anyhow," put in Art, " cheer up and think 
how good some of mother's pies will taste." 

" There's something in that," laughed Rob and 
Mr. Rogers. 

The train soon came, and carried them by a round- 
about route to Fabyans, where they had to change 
to the night train down the Connecticut valley. At 
Fabyans, where the big Fabyan Hotel sits beside 
the railroad, they bought some more souvenir post- 
cards and Peanut got a pound of very sticky candy 
which Mr. Rogers said would spoil his supper, 
whereat he answered, ** Wait and see ! " They could 
see from here the whole south range, culminating in 
the peak of Washington, and thus could follow their 
adventurous climb over the Crawford Bridle Path. 
Again, the peaks seemed very far off, and Lou said 
it was like a dream to think that they had been walk- 
ing way up there only a few days before. 

Once aboard the train, they secured berths for the 
night, and began to think of supper. Mr. Rogers 
was true to his word— -and so was Peanut. He pro- 
vided — -and Peanut ate. 

*' What's a pound of candy to an empty tum ? " 
said Peanut. ** Besides, Frank and Art ate most 
of it" 

They had a last faint glimpse of Lafayette against 


the twilight at Bethlehem junction, and then the 
train moved on through the darkness. 

'* Well, it's goodbye mountains," said Rob. 
*' Let's fix up our mileage." 

Each Scout got out his precious staff, battered 
now, with the end pounded into a mushroom by the 
hard usage on the rocks, and cut the mileage for the 
day — five miles was all they could make it, even with 
the trip up the Madison cone included. 

-' Disgraceful ! " said Peanut. " Five miles 1 
Bah ! " 

*' But the day before isy^/r," said Art, " consider- 
ing the Six Husbands' ! " 

'* Let's see, have I got it right ? " asked Peanut. 
*' Mile and three-quarters from Tuckerman hut to 
Washington, three and a half miles to Six Husbands', 
mile and a half to sprained ankle, mile up Jefferson 
and back, three miles to the hut — that's ten and 
three-quarters miles, and I guess we can call it 
eleven, all right, and some up and down hill, take it 
from me I " 

** Well, we did more'n that," said Frank ; ** we had 
the mile and three-quarters from Tuckerman's, six to 
the Madison Hut along the Gulf Side, and three back 
to you folks, and three back to the hut again. That's 
thirteen and three-quarters, and we took in the sum- 
mits of Jefferson and Adams, so w^e can call it an 
even fifteen. Some up and down for us, too.'* 


"Well, eleven over the Six Husbands' will stand 
off your fifteen," Peanut declared ; *' won't it, Rob ? " 

" I think it will," said Rob, " but let's not fight 
about it. What's the grand total ? " 

" Eight the first day," said Art, " from Sugar Hill 
station to camp ; ten up Kinsman ; twenty-one on 
Moosilauke ; seventeen in Lost River and on to the 
Flume camp for you fellows, and eighteen for Peanut 
and me ; sixteen over Lafayette ; ten on Cannon and 
in Crawford's; nine on the Bridle Path, fighting 
storm; thirteen and a quarter in Tuckerman's and 
Huntington — let's call it fourteen, 'cause we climbed 
the Huntington head wall a way ; eleven for half of 
us in the Gulf, and fifteen for the rest ; and five on 
the last day. What does that make ? " 

Rob, who had put down the readings on a bit of 
paper, added the total. " One hundred and twenty- 
one for half of us, one hundred and twenty-six for 
the rest," he said. 

"About a hundred and twenty-five miles in ten 
days," said Mr. Rogers. " Well, that's not so bad, 
when you're toting a pack and a blanket, and fight- 
ing clouds and hurricanes, and shinning up Six Hus- 
bands' trails. Are you glad you came, boys ? " 

" Are we ! " they shouted, in one breath. " You 
bet I " 

" We haven't done so awful much real scouting 
though," added Peanut. 


** Why not?" said the Scout Master. "It seems 
to me we have. WeVe been prepared, haven't we ? 
We've handled ourselves in storms and clouds, we've 
helped other folks, we've known how to signal for 
aid from one mountain top to another, we've kept 
ourselves well and hardy in the open, and we've had 
a bully good time. After all, we've put a lot of scout 
lore into use, when you come to think of it. That's 
what scout lore is for — to use, eh, Peanut ? " 

" Guess you're right. Gee, you're always 
right ! " said Peanut. " I say three cheers for 
Mr. Rogers, the best Scout Master in America I 
Now, one *' 

" Sh I " said Rob. " We all agree, but the man in 
that next berth is snoring already. He might not 
agree I " 

" Well, I can snore as loud as he can," cried Pea- 
nut, " if I get the chance. Let's turn in. And to- 
morrow A. M. we'll be in old Southmead ! Golly, 
wish I was in the Great Gulf ! " 

** You couldn't tell the other fel!ers what a good 
time we've had, if you were," said Art. 

*' That's so," Peanut reflected. " Aw, the stiffs ! 
I hadn't thought about 'em till just this minute. The 
stiffs ! Think of the fun they missed ! " 

It was eight o'clock the next morning when the five 
Scouts and Mr. Rogers, tanned and lean, with shoes 
battered and worn thin by the stony trails, marched 


up Southmead Main Street from the railroad station, 
and found the village just as they had left it. 

" It's all here, as if we'd never been away 1 '* said 

" But we are changed," said Lou. " We've got 
pictures in our heads, and memories, that we didn't 
have before. We've lifted up our eyes unto the 
hills ! " 

** And our feet, too," said Peanut. " Yes, sir, we 
are changed. These old Southmead hills haven't 
grown smaller, but our eyes have grown bigger." 

'* You're a psychologist, Peanut," laughed Mr. 

•* I'm a hungry one, whatever it is," Peanut replied. 
*' Hope ma has saved some oatmeal." 

** So do I ! '* 

*' So do I ! " 

" So do I ! " 

** So do 1 1 " 

** We seem to have the same old appetites, any- 
how ! " laughed Rob, as the White Mountain hike 
ended at the post-ofifice, and the six hikers scattered 
for their homes. 



Walter P. Eaton 


SKY-LINE CAMPS. A Notebook of a Wanderer 
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Mr. Eaton is a great lover of the out-of-doors and in this volume 
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ume of Essays. By Walter Prichard Eaton, author, 
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Frank H. Cheley 


14 full page illustrations from the author's own 

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Arthur C^ Bartlett 


The mainspring of this story is found in those 
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Spunk — strong, masterful, intelligent that he 
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War of the 
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University of